


Everything Stays

by HobblyWobbly



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Antarctic Empire, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Wilbur Soot, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Memory Loss, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Raccooninnit, Resurrected Wilbur Soot, Resurrection, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Lives, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot-centric, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Wilbur Soot, no beta we die like l'manburg, ooohh all the angst, phil is ooc because hes a good dad, techno and phil are war buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 66,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28547052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobblyWobbly/pseuds/HobblyWobbly
Summary: “I’m just watching him until you’re done here,” Techno very reluctantly lifts Wilbur onto his arms. He’s light. Too light. The man doesn’t even stir from all the movement, his head rolling to rest against Techno’s shoulder. “I’m not- Phil, I can’t promise anything.”“I know,” he smiles, the lines of exhaustion lifting off his face. “But I also know you’ll keep him safe.” Techno hates Phil’s unbridled optimism and trust in him.Tired of the endless cycle of violence and betrayal by those most trusted, Techno turns North and plans out a retirement.When Phil asks Techno to take a newly resurrected Wilbur with him and keep him safe, Techno reluctantly agrees to the temporary arrangement.Little does he know just how thoroughly his world is going to be turned upside down.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 929
Kudos: 3111
Collections: MCYT Fic Rec, sleepy bois inc





	1. Don't Look Back

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo!! 
> 
> Welcome to my newest multi-chapter fic!! This will be a slow burn in the sense that I won't be focusing on major Dream SMP events but rather the found family trope and focusing on sbi!
> 
> Title: [Everything Stays from Adventure Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lr0UOKd1dd0)

When the smoke dies down and the screaming ceases, Techno begins planning his way out of the mess he’s found himself in.

If he runs he would be hunted down for the rest of his days. If he stays, the L’manburgians will execute him for his supposed betrayal until his last breath. Techno only really has two options; up or down. Down means hiding amidst the foliage but he doubts they would be enough to conceal his entirety and it would put him at a disadvantage combat-wise.

**_climb get the advantage shoot them as they arrive_ **

_T̶e̸c̸h̸n̴o̶ ̶i̵n̶ ̷a̷ ̴t̴r̶e̴e̵ ̶w̸h̴a̸t̵ ̴w̶i̵l̶l̵ ̴h̴e̵ ̸d̵o̷_

Up it is. 

His options are fairly limited but he picks a mature dark oak and begins climbing. The rough bark scuffs at his skin but his pursuers don’t have wolves to sniff him out. The worst they had was Fundy, but the fox hybrid had been injured in the battle and doubts he could sniff him out through the forest floor and the decomposing leaves. With every movement, the bones in his shoulder scrape against each other sending shooting pain through his arm. He hadn't had time to access his injuries. Once Techno realized he was alone on a battlefield surrounded by enemies he took off running.

The murky sky above grumbles restlessly. There would be a storm soon. That could work in his favor. Rain meant mud and mud meant hiding his tracks. Once high enough, Techno perches on a branch, draws his crossbow string back, and waits. His heart thuds louder than he would've wished, but Chat reminds him it is only beating in his ears. Silent to his pursuers.

Techno presses himself closer to the trunk hoping that flatting himself would hide him better. Through a gap in the leaves, Techno watches the group sent after him convene in the thicket he’d just fled from. He recognizes Quackity’s pixelated mask and Fundy’s orange fur, but the others were too well concealed in the darkness. He exhales a heavy breath when the party continues forward. Techno stashes his crossbow away and begins climbing back down the tree.

“I should’ve known better,” Techno grumbles to himself. Finally, alone, he unstraps the boar skull from his face so he could breathe easier. The sound of peaceful emptiness was disrupted by a loud gregarious boom of thunder. The trees offer no shelter, droplets smashing their way through the foliage above. Techno tilts his head towards the sky allowing the rain to wash away the grime and smoke off his face. In seconds his clothes were bedraggled and his skin wet. 

The adrenaline that had pushed him forward finally left his veins leaving Techno empty and tired.

Wilbur had succeeded in turning L’manburg into nothing more than a crater, and the people he had once fought alongside and trusted wanted his head on a stake. He’d have to make do with the supplies he had on his person until it was safe enough to sneak into L’manburg.

He couldn’t stay any longer.

Thankfully, Techno had one last ally on this server.

Techno took out his communicator and sent his coordinates using a private network. He waits until the message is read to continue forward. He pulls his hood up, damp pink hair sticking to his skin, squinting in the darkness with dilated pupils. His plan was to put as much distance between himself and L’manburg as he could. The rest he'd leave for the future. Hopefully, Hubert could last a few days without him.

It wasn’t long after Techno’s message was read that the winds around him changed. 

**_be ready he isn’t alone_ **

_k̴i̸l̷l̷z̷a̷ ̵h̶a̵s̵ ̵a̷ ̶f̶r̸i̷e̷n̶d̵!̵ ̸m̸o̸r̴e̴ ̶b̴l̵o̴o̶d̶!̴ ̵k̸i̴l̷l̸ ̴t̴h̶e̸m̸ ̶b̵o̷t̸h̵!̵_

Techno stills. No- no, Phil wouldn’t do that. Phil had saved Techno’s life countless times over. He was Techno’s first friend. He had been there when no one else was. But the others had also been his friends, and they betrayed him. Chat only fuels his paranoia, whispering of possible traps to be on edge for, disappointed with the outcome of the day’s events longing for more blood and death. They always wanted more. A hunger impossible to sate.

The ground shakes when a person lands beside him in the clearing. Techno slowly lowered his hand onto the hilt of his sword. He would never draw his sword on Phil. But just in case. Feeling the leather under his calloused fingers helps calm his nerves.

“Techno, mate,” Phil breathes. His injuries weren't too bad all things considered; a cut above his eyebrow, the blood flowing into his eyes, and clinging to his blond hair. He was covered in scratches and painful bruises that not even potions could completely heal only in time. It was his wings that had taken the most damage. They were severely singed and marred with the lowermost feathers nearly entirely burnt off. It was a miracle he could still fly. Techno remembers seeing Phil at the heart of the TNT blast.

Just as Chat said, there is a man being carried by Phil on his back. Phil’s large wings nearly kept them hidden from sight. If not for the limp arms around his neck, Techno would’ve thought Chat was toying with him as usual. His hand stayed on his sword. “Thank the gods you got out alright. I couldn’t find you and I heard the others were-”

“Who is that?” Techno’s words come out slurred. He hadn’t realized just how dizzy he was. He presses a couple of fingers to his temple and pulls back. Blood covered them. That would certainly explain the dizziness. He had more pressing matters. “Phil, who is _that?_ ”

“Techno, calm down,” Phil keeps his voice level and each movement slow so Techno could track him. He knew him too well. “I’d never sell you out. I have no allegiances to anyone on this server other than you and my boys.”

“Your son reestablished the government. He called me a _traitor._ ” He growls. Phil sighs and he looks just as tired as Techno felt. Techno turns away when the two maintain eye contact for too long. All he saw was Tommy in those eyes. Tommy was only Phil's son by title, yet astonishing enough Tommy shared more of Phil's likeness than his own flesh and blood.

_(“You-” there were tears streaming down his ashen cheeks, protectively hugging his best friend close, shielding him from Techno's rage. The anger from his blue eyes showed the scared child within. The boy who was taught to fight and thrust into a war not of his own making. Manipulated by the ones around him and starved of the love he craved. And Techno had been one of them in his eyes. “You bastard! We trusted you- you were our friend! And you- you betrayed us! How could you, Technoblade?!”)_

“I know, Techno. They- it’s complicated. Politics always are. But Techno they’re _kids_ ,” Phil smiles slightly. He reaches out and Techno doesn’t flinch back when he pushes his hood back. With a sigh, Phil reaches into his pockets pulling out a roll of bandages. Techno doesn’t protest when the man begins wrapping them around his wound. “You were a kid too, once. Except you had an entire _empire_ to handle. They’ll figure things out.”

“I’m done getting involved in their stuff. I’m tired, Phil. I…” Techno flexes his hand. “I think I’m gonna retire. Settle somewhere far away and just...”

Phil hums thoughtfully. “I think retirement will be good for you. There, that should stop the bleeding. Now, are you calm enough to allow me to explain?”

“Philza, I’m not a child.”

“You sure were acting like one,” he chuckles. Techno grumbles under his breath and warily eyes the person on Phil’s back. They hadn’t moved once. “He’s not an enemy. Not anymore.” Carefully, Phil maneuvered the person off his back and lowered them onto the forest floor.

“What do you mean not anymore?” Techno’s snorts. He crosses his arms, ear flicking in annoyance. “Phil, if you’re asking me to put someone down-”

“Techno…” slowly, Phil tugs the hood back. Laying on the floor no more than a few feet away from Techno is Wilbur Soot. The man has explosion scars running down the left side of his face and severe bruising from the knock of the TNT. There’s a large bloody gash running down his stomach where the shirt is ripped. His skin is paler than what could be considered healthy, but there is a faint pink flush in his cheeks from the cold. Each breath is short followed by long pauses, but he's breathing. None of this made sense. Techno _saw_ Phil kill Wilbur. He saw Tommy’s tears and heard Niki’s screams of anguish while Tubbo fell to his knees in horror. The entire nation had been on a front-row seat to the death of a madman.

So why was he still here? Why was he still _alive?_ Immediately, Techno’s hand fell to his sword again.

“Techno, stop it,” he drapes a wing over his son’s unconscious body, leaning over him protectively. “I need you to hear me out.” His hand doesn’t leave his sword, but he nods to Phil for him to continue. “I killed him. If I hadn’t the explosion would’ve or someone else. He was begging me to kill him. I couldn’t…when Wil needed me most, I wasn’t there. I _abandoned_ him in his time of need. He was in so much _pain._ ”

“Phil-”

Phil grips onto the ground tearing grass out. He takes in a deep breath. “I felt him go limp in my arms and held him until his heart stopped. That’s…”

“What did you do..?” Techno whispers. Phil gently brushes some curls out of Wilbur’s eyes. He barely moves.

“I brought him back to life.” His words bring silence over the forest. Not even the falling rain made a sound. Techno couldn’t breathe. “It...I wasn’t even sure it would work.”

“You brought him back to life.” Techno repeats. He couldn’t wrap his head around the concept. The respawn system was finicky and a mystery to all; a person could have a thousand deaths and still wake up while another could die once and never come back. Resurrecting someone who was out of lives was a widely known taboo in the universe. There were all kinds of horror stories told about soulless bodies and misshapen creatures that were brought back. 

But of course, _Phil_ pulled it off. “Phil, that’s-” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do you know how many things could have gone _wrong_ with that?”

“But it worked!” Phil half chuckles and half sobs. He brings his arm up to scrub at his face. “I- I got my son back. But he can’t stay in L’manburg. They would kill him on sight, and I don’t want him _anywhere_ near Dream. I heard enough about his part in everything to know he only incited Wilbur’s insanity. You’re the only person I trust.”

“Phil, I don’t know if you’ve realized, but I’m kinda on the run. I can’t babysit.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Wilbur’s sleeping face. He looked years younger, the lines of stress and exhaustion long gone. “What about Tommy? The two are brothers.”

“Tommy...he needs time. He had been there for Wil’s descent and…” Phil didn’t need to elaborate further. Techno had been a first-hand witness to the brothers’ arguments, of Wilbur’s mad ravings and Tommy’s desperate pleas. Wilbur had been so warped by his own beliefs that only death could save him from his insanity.

_(“Techno, I know you aren’t on my side,” Wilbur whispers. His eyes were focused on the lighter in his hands, glossy and unblinking, mouth set in a hard line. “And I don’t care. I just have one question.” He turns his attention to the anarchist in front of him. His thumb rolls along the flint wheel sparking a flame. Suddenly, a wide toothy smile broke across his face, the flame reflecting in his eyes thriving in the paranoia and fear they carried. “Will you get in my way of what needs to be done?”)_

“Please, Techno.”

“Have you told anyone else? Anyone at all?” Techno eventually asks.

**_this is too dangerous we shouldn’t take him with us_ **

_t̶h̶i̷s̷ ̴i̴s̸ ̴k̴i̴n̸d̸a̷ ̶s̸u̵s̸ ̷n̴o̵t̷ ̷g̶o̷n̷n̵a̸ ̸l̷i̸e̶_

“No. Just you,” Phil stood up. The tension leaves his shoulders and he directs a relived smile at Techno. “I can give you more supplies, but that’s all I can do for now. If I’m gone too long the others will begin questioning my loyalties. Once you’re safe, I’ll come to you.”

“I’m just watching him until you’re done here,” Techno very reluctantly lifts Wilbur onto his arms. He’s light. _Too_ light. The man doesn’t even stir from all the movement, his head rolling to rest against Techno’s shoulder. “I’m not- Phil, I can’t promise anything.”

“I know,” he smiles, the lines of exhaustion lifting off his face. “But I also know you’ll keep him safe.” Techno hates Phil’s unbridled optimism and trust in him.

“What do I do if he remembers everything?”

“I...I don’t know. I’m not sure how much he’ll remember, or what state he’ll be in.” Phil admits softly. He slips his outermost layer off and drapes it over Wilbur. “I suggest you head North. There are no nations up that far, and anyone rarely makes trips in that direction.”

“I hate the cold,” Techno grumbles under his breath. Phil laughs heartily. “Can you get my horse? Carl will work. He’s fast enough and is the nicest one towards strangers. I’m fairly certain Percy would stomp his head in the first chance he gets.”

“Sure.” He nods. Neither of them moves. Phil keeps a hand resting on Wilbur’s back as if he removed his hand then his son would stop breathing. Techno shifts his weight from hoof to hoof awkwardly. “Please...keep him safe.”

“Again, no promises,” at Phil’s watery look, Techno sharply turns his head away, cursing under his breath. “Alright, alright. I’ll do my best. But if he gets on my nerves, don’t expect him to stay in one piece.”

“I won’t, but I’m sure you can handle him. You managed him fairly well when the two of you were kids.”

_(“Oh, hello,” a boy looks up from his book regarding Techno with curious eyes. His knees are pulled to his chest, his feet tucked together covered by orca printed socks, a pair of circular glasses sitting on his nose. He couldn’t be older than Techno was. When Techno didn’t immediately respond, the boy huffed and held his hand out, holding his chin up high. “It’s very rude when you just stare. That’s what my dad says. My name is Wilbur.”)_

Techno shifts his grip on Wilbur and brings him closer to his back, hands holding up his knees. The arms hang limply around his neck. If he couldn’t feel Wilbur’s faint breathing the man could’ve passed as a corpse. “I’ll keep moving forward so that the others don’t catch a whiff of my trail. Ping me when you’re in the area.”

Phil nods and slowly removes his hand. Wilbur, as expected, doesn’t react. With a deep breath, Phil extends his wings and shoots up into the sky, disappearing through the trees. Doing his best not to jostle anything in fear of aggravating any of Wilbur’s wounds, Techno begins the long walk through the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh I'm actually so excited for this fic. This AU has been stewing around in my head for weeks and I finally decided to just go "FUCK IT" and write it out! I don't plan on writing super long chapters, so hopefully, this will be updating a lot! I hope you guys enjoyed and stay tuned for the next chapter!
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	2. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slight gore warning  
> its nothing descriptive but just in case!

Wilbur, thankfully, stabilizes overnight.

He hasn’t gotten any better or worse- his breathing is still shallow and he's still unconscious, but his complexion is beginning to look healthier.

Gingerly, Techno pushes Wilbur’s trenchcoat out of the way and lifts his shirt up. He begins to unwrap the bandages around his abdomen. When they stick to Wilbur’s skin with dried blood, he curses softly. Techno had been too focused on finding shelter for the night that he had no time to examine Wilbur’s injuries. The resurrection process healed the fatal wounds, but that was the extent of it. The gash in his stomach wasn't completely healed yet and there were numerous purple bruises scattered along his body. Most likely the result of getting knocked around by the TNT.

Carl sniffs curiously at Wilbur’s curls, his diamond armor sparkling under the sunbeams, having taken a liking to the unconscious man.

“Carl, stop that,” Techno bats at Carl’s muzzle. He ignores the horse’s irritated huff. He lifts Wilbur’s head and helps him swallow a few gulps of a potion. A few of Wilbur’s cuts seal up into nothing more than thin, barely-visible marks that’ll be gone in a few days. The lingering bruises sink back into his skin leaving little discoloration on his skin and the steady bleeding stops. Phil stayed true to his word and supplied Techno with half a stack of potions, golden apples, and food for the trip. Contrayer to common belief, potions weren't an instant cure for injuries. They could speed up the process, yes, but the body still had to go through the recovery process. It wouldn't be long until the wounds began acting up again. “There. That’ll last him until we reach a village.” He begins rewrapping the bandages to avoid infection.

**_are we sure he isnt dead?_ **

_h̸e̷ ̵n̶e̸e̸d̷s̸ ̶n̶e̴w̶ ̸c̸l̶o̷t̸h̶e̶s̴ ̷h̸e̷ ̶l̵o̶o̴k̶s̵ ̷h̷o̵m̷e̸l̴e̴s̵s̵_

He kicks some dirt onto the campfire after dousing it with water, kicking mud and leaves over his footprints, doing his best to cover his trail. They were on the outskirts of Dream SMP close to the ocean. He planned to find a village and trade for proper clothing, a boat large enough for the two of them and Carl, and establish contact with Phil once he was certain they were safe. He didn’t want to risk someone tapping into their private network and reading their messages.

The journey would take a week at max. Techno hated traveling by sea, but it was their fastest route. If Techno was by himself he could’ve made the trip in half the time. He glances over towards Wilbur who hadn’t moved an inch the entire time. He didn’t want to risk anything. Having an injured _and_ unconscious person made things too difficult, and there is always a chance a zombie could slip through and attack Wilbur in the night.

Techno wasn’t even sure Wilbur would _ever_ wake up. The process of resurrecting was dangerous and it took a lot of energy out of both parties.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck babysitting…” He complains. Chat finds his annoyance at the situation hilarious and laughs about it amongst themselves. Carefully, he lifts Wilbur onto Carl’s back and then hoists himself up. He leans Wilbur’s body against his chest and adjusts the hood over his head to keep any lingering rain from getting on him. It’s not very comfortable, but it’ll have to do. Techno leans forward to brush his fingers through Carl’s mane. “Let’s get moving. I don’t want to relax until we're on the ocean.”

Carl huffs softly but begins moving forward, weaving through the trees leaving their campsite behind.

* * *

The sun is setting by the time they reach the village. 

When he slows Carl on the outskirts of town, all the villagers begin poking their heads out. He nods to a few in a greeting. A group of kids weaves their way through Carl's long legs, giggling amongst themselves, attacking each other with wooden swords. After navigating through the labyrinth of small cobblestone roads, the paths eventually end at the docks. He brings Carl to stop beside a group of fishermen, murmuring to each other in low tones.

“Do you guys have any boats large enough for us? I can return it to you in the morning.” The villagers speak in a dialect Techno hasn’t familiarized himself with yet. This server was old- older than from when Dream took control. He can hear the similarities in common Illager, and Techno exchanges words until he gets a vague understanding. “Right, thanks. Don’t tell anyone we passed through here.” He pays the villagers with a handful of emeralds that they thank him profusely for. It was better to be safe than sorry.

**_we cant trust them they will sell us out kill them all_ **

_r̵o̵a̸d̸ ̵t̴r̷i̴p̴ ̷r̷o̶a̴d̴ ̷t̵r̶i̸p̷ ̴r̷o̸a̴d̴ ̷t̷r̶i̵p̶_

Before embarking on the boat, Techno makes a few stops. He buys beef and a sack of apples for Carl, extra medical supplies, and new clothes for Wilbur. The yellow sweater Techno bargained for could practically fit two people, a warm cocoon for the wintry nights, knitted out of strong wool so it would last a long time. The beanie and gloves came as a pair, a washed-out orange that was apparently owned by someone else before, and while Techno was running low on emeralds he didn’t want to risk Wilbur getting pneumonia.

“You owe me for this,” Techno grumbles. He tucks Wilbur’s unruly curls under the beanie and adjusts the collar around his neck, helping slip the jacket back on. The brown trench coat and mostly burned black cape were stained with blood, but other than some holes and loose threads they were still rather intact. He tucks Wilbur into a pile of furs making sure he was warm enough. “Carl, your turn,” he turns to grab the reigns. Carl digs his hooves into the planks and fights against him. “Get in the boat-”

The dock was slick with water from all the fishing ventures, so it hadn’t been a surprise when Techno’s boots slip out from underneath him. He lands ungracefully in the boat causing it to sway, some water splashing over the edge and onto him in the process. He pushes wet hair out of his face just in time for Carl to step into the boat “Gods, why do I even bother?” Grunting, he pushes himself to his feet, wincing at the series of pops that follows.

The boat was rather aged. The old planks retain the odor of the fish even after the evening’s storm. But it was sound. Certainly seaworthy enough to take to the waters until they reached their destination. The villagers had gathered along the docks waving the group off, Techno watching their silhouettes disappear in the distance. Carl lays across from Wilbur balancing out the weight on the boat, the horse exhausted after traveling for so many hours. He pets Carl’s head a couple of times then settles down beside Wilbur.

Techno had barely slept the night before. Paranoia kept him energized. The exhaustion makes his movements heavier. The sails billow in the strong windows pushing them towards their destination. There wasn’t anything left for Techno to do except sleep. Using his cape as a blanket, Techno tucks his chin to his chest planning on resting his eyes for a few minutes. Wilbur’s body is heavy and warm against his side. His breathing is soft, chest rising and falling steadily. A constant reminder that he’s alive.

Techno eventually succumbs to sleep, his head resting against Wilbur’s.

_(He couldn’t stop hearing their screams. He watched as their bodies were torn apart in front of him, limbs were thrown away like discarded clothes, and blood splattered along the walls. They were begging him for help. Techno couldn’t move. Too paralyzed by fear. Too weak. He always had been too weak- too weak to play with the other kids in the village courtyard, too weak to venture outside in fear his own body would fail him, too weak too weak too weak-_

**_we can help you_ **

_w̵e̶ ̸c̸a̴n̵ ̴m̶a̵k̵e̶ ̵y̷o̷u̵ ̶s̵t̸r̸o̵n̵g̴_

_Countless eyes were watching him in the darkness, the voices blending into a symphony louder than the screams, a knife being placed into his empty hands by an invisible force. His heart was drumming in his ears. His eyes were hazy, the knife falling in and out of focus. When he blinked a severed hand came rolling into view. Blood began seeping into his socks, the smell overwhelming all his senses, bile rising in his throat. It was his mother's hand. The hand that would pet his hair as he fell asleep. The hand that held his when he was scared._

**_k i ll them show them no mer c y_ **

_B̸͔͕̘̋L̵̼͓̇͝Ȏ̸̞͖͈̕Ọ̸̧̏͂͗Ḍ̶̺̒ ̴̡͔̏̅F̵̢̬̑̈́O̷͎͗̀R̴̨̈́̅͝ ̶͔̤̿͛T̷̺͓̅H̵̫̮̼̍̈̌Ë̷̲̏ ̶̭͈̩̐̃̚B̴͕̿̒̅Ļ̵͇͊O̷̺͂͌O̸̮͆Ḋ̶̖ ̴̻̔̉G̸͕͝Ǒ̸̘̮͋̈́D̷͔͍͓̃_

_He swung.)_

**_HE’S GONE FIND HIM FI ND H IM_ **

_D̴A̴N̶G̶E̸R̶ ̷D̸A̸N̷G̴E̸R̸ ̴D̷A̸N̴G̴E̷R̵_

Techno jolts awake with a gasp. All his senses are on high alert. His hand fell to his sword and he searched the area for any enemies. The boat was halfway up a beach with the waves lapping at its sides. It was morning out. How long had been asleep? He remembers closing his eyes and then-

“Shit,” Techno groans. He buries his face in his hands, blinking away the remnants of sleep, the bandages itching against his face. At least they crossed the ocean without incident. The remnants of the dream lingered at the forefront of his mind. It had been months since the last one. He growls when the voices’ thunderous screams bounce around in his skull. “Chat, stop being so loud. ’m up. Carl is over there everything is fine-”

Wilbur.

Techno spun around. The furs have been pushed aside and there is a trail of blood leading into the forest.

Wilbur was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo wilbur do be gone tho crabrave
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	3. The Unfinished Symphony

His ears won’t stop ringing.

As the explosions grow silent, Phil starts to move, his wings slipping from around Wilbur. Wilbur takes long intakes of air. His vision spins. He watches Phil limp towards the edge of the now open cave, taking in the wreckage in front of him. His wings are bleeding from taking on the weight of the debris and being clipped by the explosions. A trail of black feathers and blood leads to Wilbur.

“Wil.” Phil rasps, throat dry from the dust in the air. Wilbur leans on the jagged wall of the cave. His entire back was numb. He, too, must have been clipped by the explosions. It made sense considering he had been so close until Phil grabbed him. “It’s all gone,” Phil mutters. He is trying to get a response out of his son. Wilbur doesn't speak at first, taking in the dusty air as he regains his composure. He uses the wall for support and makes his way towards the edge.

L’manburg is nothing more than a crater. The once beautiful buildings now lay collapsed in a pit of debris and ruin, water gushing into the ravines washing away anyone in their path, fireworks exploding into the air as the battle raged on. Blades clash. Words are screamed. Friendships are destroyed.

“My L’manberg, Phil!” Wilbur finally says laughs. He hums softly under his breath, his upper body swaying with the national anthem playing in his head, dancing precariously along the edge. “My unfinished symphony. Forever unfinished!” 

“What?” Phil's voice cracks. He reaches out and grabs Wilbur’s wrist before he could fall. Tears are streaming down his face. “Wil-”

A gentle smile crosses his face as he turns towards his father, and to the surprise of Phil, Wilbur hugs him. Uneasily, Phil laid his hands delicately on his son's back, careful of his injuries. Wilbur lets out a deep sigh. It was like a great weight had finally been lifted off of his shoulders. 

Now for the final curtain.

“Phil,” he feels Phil tighten his grip on him, unaware of Wilbur reaching for the diamond sword sheathed at his hip. “I need you to kill me.”

“Wil no, I can’t-” Wilbur steps back and unsheathed the sword in one quick motion. He flips the sword over so the blade is facing himself and the hilt towards Phil.

“Kill me, Phil. Murder me. Do it, Phil, kill me. Killza. Stab me with the sword,” Wilbur laughs humorlessly.

“Wilbur, please-” 

“KILL ME!” 

“YOU’RE MY SON” Philza cries out. His hands grip Wilbur’s. They’re trembling. “Wil…” His father’s choked voice has Wilbur looking up. There are tears gathering in his own eyes. No, he had to be strong. He couldn’t take his final bow like this. “No matter what you do-”

“Look- _LOOK!_ They all want you to!” A crowd has formed watching the confrontation unfold. He had done all of this. He had caused all this pain. He ruined _everything_. “They hate me. They- I did all this. I’m the villain, Phil. It’s time for you to play the hero.”

In one swift movement, Wilbur is pulled into Phil’s chest, being hugged tight causing the sword to stab through his gut and out the other side. He coughs up blood feeling a cold sensation ripple through him. “Wil, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, son.” A hand finds its way to Wilbur’s head, clutching onto his curls tightly, tears staining his coat.

Wilbur lifts his arms and hugs his father back. He closes his eyes. For the first time in years, Wilbur utters the words; “Dad, I love you…”

The ringing finally stops.

He's so tired. Unbelievably so. It felt like someone had stuffed cotton into his head in place of his brain. And then there’s a light. It’s small and far off in the distance, but Wilbur begins running towards it. He wants out- he doesn’t want to be in the dark anymore. Memories begin flashing past as he sprints.

_(“How can we make this more European sounding?”)_

_(“I don’t need handrails! I’m a grown man, I can navigate my way around- shit!”)_

_(“Wilbur- Wilbur, we won! We won L’manburg back! We did it!”)_

For a moment, Wilbur hesitates. His hands rest on a still image of his family; Phil had his arms thrown over both his son’s shoulders, smiling wide and full of cheer, Wilbur reaching over to ruffle Tommy’s hair, his small wings sprouting from his back, Tommy’s face blurred as he shouted at him, tail batting around behind him.

He could stay here with his memories. No one could take them away from him. He’d be safe here, surrounded by the ones who once loved him, free from the weight of his responsibilities.

 _“Wil…”_ A voice came from the light. 

“Dad?!” Wilbur’s head shoots up. Was that Phil? “Dad- where are you? Where am I? What is this place?!”

_“Come back…”_

He begins running again. He ignores the memories that try blocking his way, holding back the tears that threaten to fall, his hand reaching out towards the light seeping in through a crack in the void. A hand is being held out for him when he arrives. Wilbur grasps onto their wrist feeling himself get pulled forward and-

Wilbur's jolts awake with a pained gasp. Pain sears through his abdomen worse than a branding iron, his mind conceding to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion. Without meaning to his body curls into something fetal, and all the while the pain burns and festers. All he can do is writhe with the occasional whimper escaping. His nails scratch into his scalp, nausea swirling in his stomach, the pain increasing with every second.

And then something cold was pressed to his forehead.

Through bleary eyes, Wilbur stares up at a chestnut horse adorned in diamond armor. Their nose sniffles against his sweaty curls. He reaches a shaky hand up tangling his fingers in the coarse hair. The horse neighs, closing his eyes in silent trust, nudging his head further into Wilbur’s hand. A small smile crosses his face.

“I…” He breaks out into a coughing fit. When was the last time he spoke? His throat felt leathery and sore. As if sensing his discomfort, the horse nudges a bag with his hoof. Cautiously, Wilbur dug through the bag until he found a waterskin full of water. Every swallow was like a piece of shattered glass going down his throat and his eyes watered with the effort. Once the container was empty, Wilbur pets the horse once more. He closes his eyes trying to calm down from his initial panic.

_(“Wil, it’s okay. Tell me five things you can see.”)_

He’s in a boat. It’s snowing. There’s a beach and a forest next to the beach. And the horse.

_(“You’re doing great, Wil. Now, four things you can touch.”)_

The horse’s hair. The furs he was bundled up in. His clothes. The edge of the boat.

_(“Okay, now three things you can hear.”)_

Birds chirping out a morning song. The waves crashing against the beach. His sharp breathing.

_(“Stay with me. How about two things you can smell.”)_

He can smell the saltwater drifting through the air and meat from inside the bag.

_(“Last one, mate, one thing you can taste.”)_

Ash.

Having finally calmed down, Wilbur begins standing, using the horse as a crutch. His knees threaten to give out under him a couple of times, but eventually, Wilbur can stand on his own. He grabs the waterskin and the bag of food. Why was he here? The last thing he remembers was the election. He had been reading out the results and then...and then...

_(“Phil, I need you to kill me.”)_

No- no, that had been a nightmare. Phil would never kill him! Wilbur clutches his head and stumbles out of the boat. Where was he? Wilbur walks through the snow, breath pale against the numbing air, pushing branches away.

“Tommy?” Wilbur calls. He gets no response. Had they gotten separated? Tommy always did like to run off on his own. “Were we on a trip?” He asks out loud. “I remember the election. Pog2020 won with 45% of the votes. I’m president. And then...and then…”

He fiddles with his sweater sleeves then stops. His clothes aren’t right. This wasn’t his L’manburg uniform. Wilbur picks at the black cape around his shoulders, eyeing it in confusion wondering why how it had gotten so damaged, patting down his coat. He digs through his pockets pulling out a lighter and a blue rock.

_(“Wil, what is that?” Niki wrings her hands together. Any minute now they would emerge from the bunker and join the others in the fight for L’manburg. Her eyes are focused on the rock in Wilbur’s hands. “It looks like lapis.”_

_“Oh, this is blue. See, it starts transparent and it sucks up all your sadness. I…” Wilbur trails off. He runs his thumb over the smooth surface. His reflection stares back. He doesn’t recognize himself anymore. He pockets the blue away, forcing on a fake smile for Niki. “It doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s go. I’d hate to keep the others waiting for much longer.”)_

“Fuck-” Wilbur stumbles back clutching his head. The lighter falls onto the snow while he tightens his grip on the rock. It feels like his head is splitting in half trying to piece the puzzles together. His back slams against a tree and Wilbur crumples to the ground. Once again his senses overwhelm him, the world around him spinning. This time he is alone. He has nothing to ground himself with.

The ringing is back again.

Wilbur presses his hands to his ears trying to block out the sound. It just wouldn’t _stop._ It came from every angle. There is a metallic taste in his mouth. It wasn’t until Wilbur began coughing that he realized it was blood. He hunches over clutching the red-stained snow to stabilize himself. He's breathing all wrong. He begins to gasp like there's not enough oxygen in the air. The usual exercises weren’t working. 

_(“Dad! Look! My wings are growing in!” Wilbur excitedly cries up to his father, tugging on his pant leg. He turns and shows off the two black wings that had sprouted from his back. The feathers were incredibly fragile and the wings were no larger than his hand, but they were there._

_“That’s amazing, Wil!” Phil scoops Wilbur up into his arms. He spins them around the kitchen, his own wings balancing them out to avoid falling over. He laughs, pressing their foreheads together, his smile blinding. Wilbur brought his little hands up to clutch Phil's antlers. His father’s smile only grew. “I’m so proud of you, son.”)_

Phil- where’s Phil? He needs Phil. No, Phil stabbed him. But wasn’t that a dream? Wilbur tugs harder on his hair. It had all felt so _real_ , but Phil would never hurt him. Right? And Wilbur- he’d never blow up L’manburg. Right? It was their home. A place of freedom and good where the ones he loved could survive. Where they were safe.

He needed to breathe. He needed Phil. He needed-

“Wilbur!” A sharp voice makes Wilbur’s head snap up. His hands were so cold in contrast to Wilbur’s burning temperature. He stares into a pair of red eyes, the man cursing a few times under his breath upon seeing his state. “What did you think you were doing? You’re bleeding out! You could have died!”

“I…” He was so familiar. The name lingered on the tip of his tongue, but Wilbur couldn’t find it through the fog. “What…”

_(“You’re so stupid,” a boy with pink hair grumbles. He wraps a roll of bandages around Wilbur’s ankle. He sprained it by climbing the castle walls. On the way over, Wilbur had stolen his crown and now wore it on his own head, the crown sitting lopsided on his too-small skull, swinging his legs childishly._

_“Yes, your highness.” Wilbur teases. He sticks his tongue out at his friend’s annoyed expression._

_“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”_

_“Hiiiiighness~” He drags out the word as long as he can. Soon enough a pair of hands were pressing against his face knocking him off the chair onto the ground. The two wrestle for a good minute until Phil entered the room, watching the two with fond exasperation.)_

“Shut up and drink this,” a pink potion is shoved into Wilbur’s hands. Realizing he didn’t have a choice, Wilbur takes the potion, cringing at the smell. Pinching his nose, Wilbur chugs the potion in one go. “Alright- Chat, I know I’ve got it- look, I need to check your wounds. You aggravated them by moving so recklessly.”

“Wait,” Wilbur grabs the man’s wrist before he could proceed any further. He ignores the tired glare and forces his mouth to work. “I...who are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ghostbur but i diagnosis him with live
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	4. Rabbit Stew

Techno is going to kill Phil. But first, he is going to kill Wilbur.

“Techno, why are we out here?” Wilbur asks for the third time in under an hour. It is probably a new record somewhere. He is cupping Carl’s muzzle between his hands, having grown some sort of unspoken bond with Techno’s horse, affectionately petting Carl’s hair. Something with the resurrection must have gone wrong because Wilbur lost his memories. No matter what Techno said, Wilbur would forget it almost immediately; losing the election, Pogtopia and the rebellion, the festival, blowing up L’manburg. It was all just gone. “Why can’t we go back to L’manburg?”

“I told you, Wilbur, we’re not wanted there.” Techno huffs. He squints through the snow, searching for a place they could begin setting a base at. “They…” He scrubs a hand over his face. Techno had sent a message to Phil asking for his help but the man had yet to respond leaving Techno to handle the situation alone. The only issue is that Techno had no idea what he was doing. “It’s a long story, Wilbur. Phil can explain it later-”

“Oh, that's right, Phil is on the server!” He lights up. “I haven’t seen Phil in years! It will be good to catch up- will he be coming soon? What about Tommy?” Techno stiffens. He grips his sword tighter. He begins heading further into the spruce forest, deciding to distract himself by searching for a place to begin building their base.

**_tell him he needs to know he betrayed us he used us_ **

_h̴e̷ ̸c̴a̸n̵t̷ ̶k̸n̵o̴w̴ ̶i̶t̵ ̶w̵i̶l̷l̴ ̷d̵e̵s̶t̶r̶o̷y̸ ̵h̴i̸m̶!̵_

They needed flat land so no one could get the high ground on them. Maybe a river for easy access to water, and good enough land where he could begin a farm-

“Tommy should come to visit too,” Wilbur was oblivious to Techno’s internal debate. He kept on rambling, hugging Carl’s neck as he limped alongside the horse, following Techno. “We can have a big family dinner! With you as well, of course. You’re practically family-”

“Tommy isn’t coming, Wilbur,” Techno finally snaps. “The only person who is our friend is Phil. Everyone else betrayed us. They- they don’t _care_ about us. If...if you remembered that, you’d understand.” The hurt that flashed across Wilbur’s face was brief, but Techno caught it. He pinched his nose, sighing heavily, forcing himself into a calmer state. “Look, just focus on getting better. You shouldn’t even be walking right now.”

“Techno…” Wilbur trails off. The collar of his sweater had been pulled up so high his chin and mouth were hidden behind the soft fabric, the curls that hadn’t been tucked under his hat falling over his eyes. Deciding the conversation was over, Techno focused on finding a base, breaking a few branches that got in their path. “What...what kind of house were you thinking of building?”

“Something simple, I guess. It doesn’t matter. I’ve never been the best at building. I’m gonna get a farm going that way we won’t be relying on the villages nearby, and a stable for Carl.” Techno doesn’t mention the secret base he plans on building. If Wilbur knew he’d tell Phil and Phil didn’t need to know- Techno was retiring after all. There was no reason for him to be preparing supplies for war, but just in case.

Wilbur hums in thought. His complexion has gotten better, Techno notes. When Techno found him huddled in the snow, covered in his blood, hyperventilating with frozen tears sticking to his cheeks, he looked like a ghost. There is a healthy pink stretched across his cheeks from the cold. His skin was still unnaturally pale. A night by a campfire should hopefully fix that. “I think a cottage would look very nice out here. We could have a fireplace and an attic. Techno, remember the library in the castle? We can have a library up there!”

“Hmm, yeah,” he scratches the back of his head in thought. Techno could barely recall the library- the good memories had been drowned by the bad it made remembering hard. “I could put an enchantment table up there as well. It’ll good being able to-” at Wilbur’s narrowed look, he clears his throat. “Right, an attic. For books. And not combat.”

“What were you thinking of farming? There’s not a lot of crops that can grow in these conditions.” Wilbur asks.

_(“So this is where you went off to?” Phil looks out across the rolling fields, a hand holding down his hat when a particularly heavy gust of summer wind blows past. He stretches his wings out to their full size, no longer confined by tight corridors or rooms._

_“Yeah,” Techno grunts as he pulls out another potato, setting in inside his wicker basket. “I was in a war, you know.” At Phil’s alarmed look, he laughs. He hasn’t felt this at ease in years. Chat’s screams have become nothing more than a murmur, bored with the lack of death and fighting. “Don’t worry, it was a farming war. I won, of course.”)_

“I was thinking about potatoes. They can grow in any climate. I’m sure wheat and such will be harder and we need a reliable source of food,” Techno says after a moment of thought.

“Techno?” He grunts in acknowledgment, helping Carl navigate across a frozen river. Wilbur reluctantly let himself get set on Carl’s back gripping the reigns. “When can we go back?”

Techno can’t help but glance towards Wilbur’s chest, the killing wound hidden by his clothes. The Wilbur on his horse, however, wasn’t the leader who had given up on everything and resorted to desperate measures. He was someone new- a clean slate with a new future ahead of him.

Techno doesn’t reply. He can’t bring himself to.

* * *

By the time night settles, the bare bones of the cottage have been built.

Techno stirs a wooden spoon around in the castiron pot, Wilbur sitting across from him using the campfire to warm his hands up. He's making rabbit stew. The area they had decided to settle down at was brimming with rabbits, and Techno is tired of beef. The house would take a couple more days to finish being built. He also needs to build a farm, the stables for Carl, and pens for farm animals, but those are things for the future. For now, he’s worried about making a house that wouldn’t collapse on them in the night.

“I think replacing the base with stone will be better,” Wilbur mumbles. He had been guiding Techno during the build, telling him how much wood would be needed and where the support beams should go, making sure Carl didn’t wander off. “It can protect us against creepers. And maybe we could put the fireplace on the left side by the kitchenette.”

“Was thinking of using ladders rather than stairs,” Techno adds. He hands a bowl of stew across the fire to Wilbur. Wilbur mumbles his thanks and takes the bowl before settling back into his furs, knees pulled to his chest with the bowl balanced on top. “The house is already pretty small as is, and stairs would just be taking up too much space.”

Wilbur blows on the food a couple of times before taking a bite, blue eyes lighting up. “Woah, Techno, this is good! I didn’t think rabbit stew could actually taste...well, edible.”

“It’s all about the seasoning. Rabbit is stronger than chicken and has an earthier flavor to it, so it’s all about balancing it out,” Techno explains. Wilbur listens along, silently eating his stew. “It’s good when you have fresh bread with it.”

“Niki is really good at baking,” at his sad tone, Techno pauses. Wilbur is staring intently into his bowl. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “She...every morning, before the first war, she would bring us fresh bread. We hadn’t built a farm yet in L’manburg by that time and we were living off scraps.”

“Not really smart.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he laughs. Techno cracks a smile. “Sometimes she would surprise us with extra pastries she made for the bakery. Tommy always tried stealing Tubbo’s portion. Usually, though, when the two were distracted Fundy would take both their portions.” He stirs his spoon around in the broth, going quiet. “I...I can’t remember what her food tastes like…”

“I don’t know how to bake.” Techno blurts out before his mind could catch up with his mouth. Wilbur glances up in surprise. He shifts awkwardly on the snow, flushing in embarrassment. “I never learned- never saw a reason. I’m not too big on sweets anyway.”

**_that’s a lie_ **

_b̶u̶t̷ ̴w̷e̴ ̶l̴o̴v̷e̸ ̷c̵a̵k̴e̷!̶!̵_

“I can teach you if you like.” Wilbur offers. An olive branch. Techno hesitates, staring at his reflection in the stew. “I’m not very good, but I think I remember the basics.”

“...yeah,” he clears his throat. Wilbur’s smile extends to his eyes causing them to crinkle upwards, the top row of his teeth visible, dimples on either side of his mouth now visible. The warm glow of the campfire dances across his face, and Techno can instantly see the resemblance of Phil in him. They were both too kind for their own good, but where Phil knew when to stop, Wilbur didn’t.

His role was to give to others and be generous at all times. It made him wonderful and a beacon of hope to all who had the honor of knowing him, yet it was a double-edged sword. A sword that would ultimately get plunged through his body saving the world from any lingering torment. Techno sighs, suddenly exhausted, setting his untouched food aside. “It’s late. You should get some sleep. I’m gonna stay up and keep an eye out for mobs.”

**_we arent made for peace it wont last_ **

_E̷E̵E̸E̷E̴E̵E̷E̷E̵T̴I̴M̴E̵T̶O̵S̷T̴A̵B̷S̸H̷I̵T̴E̶E̶E̵E̷E̷E̸E̷E̸E̴E̸_

“Oh, okay. Wake me up when you want to trade shifts so you can sleep as well,” Wilbur sets his empty bowl down and lays down on the bedroll Techno put out for him. It wasn’t long until he fell asleep, chest slowly rising and falling, a ball of furs and clothes. Techno settles back keeping his eye on Wilbur not wanting a repeat of the previous night.

Wilbur was living in denial of what he had done, and whatever went wrong with resurrection to mess up his memories wasn’t helping. He couldn’t remember anything past the election, and it took a lot of convincing for him to believe that Techno was who he said he was. Techno sighs rubbing his face.

He just hoped Phil could fix this. Whenever he got back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilbur: lads on tour :)  
> techno, keeping him on a backpack leash: i hate everything
> 
> also i dont know how close to canon i will be sticking to this is already pretty much an au and i had stuff planned before the latest events so we shall see! all i can say is...anarchy is pretty cool :)
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	5. Things I Remember

Waking up no longer brought the same pleasure it did long ago. 

Once upon a time, Wilbur would have enjoyed the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, to rise and discover what the day held, full of energy and vigor. He’d hear Tommy and Tubbo’s voice wafting through the air planning their day of mischief and mayhem. Sometimes Wilbur would join their schemes. There is a fleeting moment when he is whole again, but before he could hold onto the feeling it slips through his fingers, leaving him behind.

Then it came. His body is burning again. The flames come from behind winding themselves around each limb and consuming what they could to fuel their blaze. The explosions ring in his ear surrounding him from every angle. Deep down, Wilbur knew there was no fire, that this was all just in his head, but the pain was too real- too _familiar_ \- that no logic nor reason could stop the choked sobs that left him. 

He groans in frustration, fingers scratching desperately at the mattress beneath him, trying to grasp at anything for stability. All he gets is a brand new headache and more stabbing pains that shoot through his arms. He burrows into the warm, soft sheets, wishing the bed would swallow him up rather than face another day.

Swallowing hard, Wilbur clutches at his chest, shaking fingers digging into the skin. He’s hoping that by a scratch or simple graze, his heart would stop racing, it would return him to the present and bring him clarity. He nearly startles out of his skin when a hand settles down on his shoulder.

“Wil, it’s me.” _Techno,_ his mind supplements, _it’s Techno he’s safe he helps_. Wilbur wants to feel instantly better now that he's here but he just _can’t_. “Wil-”

_(“Wil...hat...appene..?” There are hands gripping his shoulders lifting him from the ground and pressing him against a solid chest. Wilbur blearily blinks, barely registering the words, choking on his own blood. “...tay...th...me! Wil! Wil!”_

_Something wet hits his cheek. Wilbur makes out Phil’s blurry face as his wings wrap around them both protectively. When Wilbur tried moving his wings in response a chill ran down his spine. He let out a scream, thrashing about in Phil’s grip, trying to see his wings. He couldn’t feel his wings. Why couldn’t feel his wings? Why why why why-)_

“Wilbur!” Hands were grabbing his shoulders. A few tears slip down his cheeks. Techno kept Wilbur’s head level with his own, keeping him grounded to reality. “I need you to breathe. Copy me, okay?” He guides Wilbur’s hand to rest on his chest so he could feel his steady heartbeat. Shakily, Wilbur begins copying Techno’s breathing, his eyes never leaving his face. “Better. Here, drink this.” A pink potion is gently brought to his mouth, a hand holding the back of his head helping him drink it down. Techno sets the empty bottle aside and stands up, his hands moving back onto Wilbur’s shoulders keeping him steady.

“I…” Wilbur begins to take in his surroundings. He’s in an attic surrounded by empty bookshelves on a bed. Through the small window, he can see that it’s snowing outside. Oh, right, they finished the house. How long has it been? Subconsciously, Wilbur grabs the blue on his nightstand and holds it close. He slowly goes through his usual exercise, eventually relaxing. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I came up to bring you new clothes. Your…” Techno trails off. Wilbur glances down at himself, picking at the bloodied clothes, blinking a few times.

_(“Wil, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, son.”)_

“I was planning on visiting the village nearby and seeing what they have. Once you’re feeling up to it, we can get going.” He hesitates then awkwardly pats Wilbur’s shoulder. Wilbur watches Techno climb down the ladder then close the trapdoor that separated his room from the rest of the house. Just as Techno said, a pile of fresh clothes sits beside the window for him.

_(“Niki, these uniforms are amazing!” Tubbo gushes. He spins around a couple of times and laughs, his revolutionary jacket flowing around him, the blues and red vibrant and full of life just as he was. Tommy was in a similar state, marching around pretending he was Wilbur, teasing Fundy for his pastel outfit. Wilbur held the black tricorn hat in his hands running his calloused fingers over the material in awe. “Wil, isn’t this great?”)_

Wilbur didn’t recognize the person in the mirror.

His hair was overgrown, the curls having lost their volume from neglect. He had to step closer to get a better view, realizing his glasses were nowhere to be found. Maybe Phil or Techno could buy him a new pair. Wilbur rubbed a hand against his cheek. His skin was cold to the touch. He begins tugging off his layers, folding his jacket and sweater up neatly, letting them rest on his bed. Maybe he could wash the blood out of them later. The sweater was rather comfortable and reminded him of the old days whereas the trenchcoat he had felt an odd connection to. He just couldn’t quite place it.

When Wilbur faces the mirror again, he pales. His entire chest is covered in bandages hiding the wound underneath. The explosion scars on his face continue down his body. Hesitantly, Wilbur turns around. His back is a bright pink, the scars running jagged lines across the skin, leaving almost nothing untouched. The explosion he can remember being caught in was when Dream rigged L’manburg with TNT, but it hadn’t been that bad. Or was it?

Carefully, Wilbur shifts his cape over his shoulders, feeling his back tingle. When Wilbur faced the mirror again a pair of small black wings sat on his back over the scars. One wing was as large as his arm and the other was half that size, mangled with scars, the feathers too fragile for flying. He catches himself on the mirror breathing hard. When was the last time he let them free? After the accident, they had stopped growing, and if Dream found out during the war then he would exploit that weakness. Wilbur couldn’t let that happen.

_(“Woah…” Wilbur marvels, holding onto the edge of Phil’s cape. Phil laughs heartily and in a blink of an eye where his cape once was are now a pair of massive black wings. He spins himself around so he’s facing Wilbur, crouching down to his son’s height. Wilbur’s own tiny wings flutter at the sight, grabbing onto his father’s hand, babbling excitedly. “Teach me! I wanna do that too! I wanna have a cool cape!”_

_“Okay, okay! Calm down, mate. I’ll teach you, but you need to promise me you’ll be careful. Winged hybrids are rare, and your wings are special.” He wipes some dirt off Wilbur’s cheek with his thumb, pinching it lightly just to make him giggle._

_“I promise!”)_

Wilbur decides against hiding them. There were no wars out here. He had no reason to keep on hiding. He was safe, after all.

He changes into the clothes Techno left for him. The blue-toned fur-lined robe was too big for him and there were large slits on the back. They were clearly intended for larger wings, and Wilbur’s looked rather comical in the loose clothes. He had some trouble getting his pants on and cursed while lacing up his boots, nearly falling on the ground a few times. Lastly, he grabbed his beanie and mittens, feeling more like himself once they were on. Wilbur stared at himself in the mirror adjusting his bangs so he could see. He paused.

When Techno said they were staying up north for a chance, Wilbur wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He didn’t want to leave his friends behind; L’manburg was still a new nation and she needed her founder. But seeing himself in the mirror, Wilbur decided maybe a new start wouldn’t be so bad. He could always ask Phil to fly him to L’manburg to visit.

The cottage had come along nicely; it was still rather empty since the two had little to furnish it with, but the overall aesthetic matched perfectly with the image Wilbur initially had in mind. He begins climbing down the ladder, taking his time to not aggravate his wounds. So far they had three levels; the attic, the main room, and the basement. Techno wanted to keep building down, but Wilbur talked him into taking things one at a time.

“Techno,” Wilbur says to announce his entrance. Techno’s crouched in front of the fireplace cleaning out the ashes. He’s changed as well, dressed in similar blue tones, his usual red cape replaced with a fur-lined one that matched Wilbur’s. He looked more regal this way. Almost rather homely. “These clothes- they seem familiar.”

“Oh, yeah. Those were Phil’s old Antarctic Empire robes. He never used them though, so I just tossed them in my ender chest.” Techno explains. That explained the wing slits. Wilbur should’ve known better- the only other winged hybrid he knew was Phil. “I figured since this is a new start ‘n’ all we might as well start fresh.”

“I like it. Thank you,” he sits down at the table. “I...I’m sorry about earlier. I...the memories come and go and sometimes-”

Techno cuts Wilbur off by standing up. His long tail swishes a few times, Wilbur watching him awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. It was times like these where all Wilbur saw was the young king who had been forced to grow up too soon. “I get it. Everyone has their issues. It’s not my place to judge. I uh...I realize I haven’t been the most...look, if you need someone to talk to or whatever, I’m here.”

“Oh.” Wilbur blinks. That wasn’t what he had been expecting at all. The Techno he remembered _hated_ anything emotional and would avoid such situations with earnestness. Then again, this was a different Techno. “So, why are we visiting the village?”

“I mentioned it earlier, but I wanted to see what supplies they have and then maybe get an idea of where everything is in the area. See, I could go scouting but..” Techno visibly relaxes. It seems one thing never changed; once Techno began talking about something he was interested in he wouldn’t stop. Wilbur smiles.

* * *

The village was a lot bigger than Wilbur imagined. More cottages than he could count on either hand made up the surrounding area, a few iron golems wandering through the crossroads fighting off any mobs. According to one of the locals, a winter festival was happening in a few weeks so everyone was preparing to celebrate. Wilbur stepped closer to Carl as a few children ran past, chasing each other with snowballs. They couldn’t be much older than Fundy was- no, Fundy wasn’t a child anymore. That was wrong that-

_(“Wilbur- you dickhead!” Tommy screams ducking behind his poorly made snow fort. Wilbur snickers from where he’s taking cover, a pile of snowballs at the ready beside him. “I’m not ready! This isn’t fair!”_

_“All is fair in war, Tommy! This is what you get for challenging me!” Wilbur grabs another snowball. He spotted Phil passing by with a few servants following him. When his father spotted the two, a fond smile stretched across his face, waving over. Wilbur was in the middle of waving back when a snowball was thrown into his hair._

_“Gotcha bitch!” The boy cheers victoriously. Phil has a hand covering his mouth to stifle his laughter, quickly putting on a more professional face and continuing to talk with the other servants. Wilbur watches him go feeling the disappointment build in his chest. He had hoped Phil would join them. He seemed busier as of late.)_

Wilbur had been distracted watching the kids that he ended up walking into Techno’s back. 

“Wil,” Techno glances over his shoulder. He sighs. “Hold onto my tail while we’re walking. I don’t wanna lose you in this crowd.”

“I’m not a kid.” Wilbur immediately argues. “Last time I checked, I’m _older_ than you.” The two glare at each other for a couple of minutes waiting for the other to crack.

“You might be older, but right now you’re in a very vulnerable state. I’m- Phil is having me watch over you, so that means I’m taking every precaution. Last time I took my eyes off you you nearly bled out.” Unable to come up with a good defense, Wilbur admits defeat, grabbing onto Techno’s tail. He keeps a light grip to avoid possibly hurting him. “...we did this a lot in the castle.”

Wilbur blinks. “We did?” Why couldn’t he remember that?

“Yeah. You constantly got lost and ended up giving Phil a heart attack on numerous occasions. One time, he almost sent out a search party because you were ten minutes late to a sparring match,” he hums. Wilbur can’t see his face, but he can hear the nostalgia in Techno’s voice.

_(“You know, your tail is really fluffy,” Wilbur notes. He bats the end of Techno’s tail between his hands, the tuft of pink hair at the end tickling his nose occasionally. Techno sat beside him on the bench, an open book on his lap, fully focused on what he was reading. “I totawwy thought you’d have a weawwy cute tiny wittwe taiw.”_

_“What the fuck Wilbur?” Techno glares at Wilbur. Wilbur lasts a minute before cracking, doubling over with laughter, clutching his gut. He rolls his eyes and resumes reading. When Wilbur peeks over, he can see a hint of a smile.)_

“Do you think we can come visit the festival?” Wilbur asks. He watches Techno stiffen up and wonders if he said something wrong. As far as he knew, festivals were supposed to be good things. He had wanted to throw a festival after winning the election- he even kept it a secret from Tommy to surprise him. “Maybe we can bring Phil. Or-” he stops himself. For some reason, Techno always got angry when Tommy was mentioned. “Yeah, Phil would like it.”

“...festivals aren’t really my thing…” Techno trails off.

“Oh, okay.” And that was that. “I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories. Here, have some blue,” Techno wordlessly takes the blue rock that is offered to him. Wilbur planned on asking Phil more about it when he visited. Techno was hard to get information out of, and Phil had always been close with Techno. The two even kept in contact after Techno’s sudden leave of absence in the empire. Why _had_ Techno left? If he hadn’t left then Phil wouldn’t have gotten so busy and Wilbur wouldn’t have had to raise Tommy and-

“Wilbur,” Techno’s gruff voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Did you want something? You’ve just been staring.” He gestures to the stall. Countless books were laid out for display. Wilbur lets go of Techno’s tail to run his fingers over a leather-bound journal. “Is that a yes or-”

“Yes. Yes, this one,” he takes the book into his hands. Techno turns to face the librarian handing over a handful of emeralds. Wilbur flips through the pages with extreme care. The page creases were unevenly cut and there were some faint stains, but that added to the charm. When he remembers he had nothing to write with, Wilbur turns to Techno only to get a pen shoved in his face.

“Here. I think that should be it. Let’s start heading back before it gets dark.” Techno leads Wilbur through the crowd back the way they came, his book and pen held under one arm while holding onto Techno’s tail with the other. “What do you plan on writing in that?”

“I…I was thinking about writing down what I remember in this. Maybe it can help me stop forgetting things.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Wil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo they got some new fits  
> Some fun facts:  
> -wilbur's outfit is based off this [minecraft skin](https://www.minecraftskins.com/skin/15991595/wilbur-arctic-uniform/)  
> -the cape idea was inspired by Sad-ist's phil design and i thought it would be really cool to incorporate it!!  
> -techno is a pig/boar hybrid (mix of both)
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	6. Bond Forged in Blood

Techno wakes to Chat screaming.

**_someone’s here to kill us_ **

_B̶͇̈L̶̪̗̊͂Ō̷̖̗Ö̴̞̩́D̷͙͕̊ ̴̫̪̈́́Ḅ̸̣͑L̷̪͐͘O̷͚̗̓O̷͓͋D̴͍̈͗ ̵͖B̵̫̓Ľ̵̖̕Ő̴̤͐O̶̯͐D̸̬͛ ̸̨ͅB̴̝̏L̵̦̋̔O̴̮̠O̸̜̱͗D̸̰͔̈_

Half-aware and half-panicked, he lurches from the couch, grabbing his sword by the hilt tearing it free from its sheath. Everything is the same as he left it; the fire has died in the fireplace, two dirty plates left in the sink, the book he had been reading laying discarded on the floor. The locks on the front door are still in place, and the hidden door to the basement hasn’t been unlocked.

Techno slips to his feet moving swiftly across the room and climbing the ladder to the attic. Quietly, he lifts the trapdoor poking his head inside. Wilbur is fast asleep on the bed. His journal is hugged to his chest and there’s ink smeared across his cheek. Nothing looked out of place up here either. Techno readjusts the blanket over Wilbur before he climbs back down the ladder. He checks outside last.

A fog has settled over the tundra, the hills ominously glowing in the backdrop. A freezing chill settles over his limbs as a gentle sprinkling of rain begins. Techno squints and his eyes burn from the strain. It was faint, but Techno caught movement in the far distance. It couldn’t be L’manburg- Techno highly doubted they were stupid enough to go hunting for him with their nation so vulnerable. Dream never did anything without a reason, and he had no reason to seek Techno out. It was just a matter of when. The only other person Techno could think of was-

“Phil? Phil!”

Techno throws himself over the railing, abandoning his sword on the porch. He scrambles across the snow, panic filling him all at once, adrenaline guiding his feet forward. It is only when Techno is an arm’s length away from him that Phil notices Techno.

“Techno, what are you doing? I pinged you not to come outside,” Phil laughs, oblivious to Techno’s worry. “I know it’s early, but it was best to leave when everyone was asleep to avoid suspicion-”

“Are you safe?” He rasps. His hand flinches at his side, and Techno holds back to the urge to grasp onto Phil like a scared child. “Did they hurt you? Did they find out? Are you alone? Is-”

“Aaw, mate, were you worried about me?” Phil covers his mouth as he laughs, his wings fluttering in amusement. They were rather small compared to their usual massive length- at least the size of Phil’s forearm and even that was generous. “I hadn’t had the chance to message you back is all. Tommy won’t let me out of his sight, and Tubbo has been turning to me for advice. I didn’t want to risk being caught. And no one followed me- I might be old, but I’m not _that_ old.”

He had been worried for nothing. Of _course,_ Phil would have a reason for not contacting him sooner. Techno feels the tension seep out of him immediately. “I can catch you up on everything once we’re out of the rain.” Techno nods. He leads Phil through the fog towards the cottage, scooping his sword up along the way dusting snow off the blade. “You built this?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Techno grumbles defensively. He shuts the door behind them watching Phil slip off his hat. “And keep your voice low. Wilbur is still sleeping.”

“Right- right, of course.”

Techno crouches down and gets the fireplace started once again. Phil doesn’t say anything when he grabs two mugs from the cabinets pouring leftover hot cocoa Wilbur made the night before. He hands one to Phil and settles down in the armchair beside him. After a few long sips and a handful of slow breaths, Techno breaks the silence.

“Why are your wings like that?” He eyes the small wings. Under his calculating gaze, they flutter a couple of times.

“The healing process is faster in this state,” Phil explains. He leans back in the chair, a wing resting on his lap, running his fingers through the ebony feathers. “Even once they’ve healed, I’ll probably never fly again. It’s alright, though,” he quickly adds before Techno interjects. “If sacrificing my wings means Wilbur can have a second chance, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Phil wore a smile, but Techno could hear the ache in his words. Flying was Phil’s life. Without it, what did he have left?

_(The journey north took years until finally, Techno reached his destination. He let the voices guide him forward. He was halfway up a mountain when a hand was held down to him._

_“Hello, mate. Need a hand?” Techno eyes the winged man above him apprehensively. The voices weren’t reacting any stranger than usual, so Techno accepted the offer. “What are you doing out here? I didn’t know people started adventuring at your age.”_

_“I plan on taking over the world.” Techno mumbles bitterly. The man’s eyes widen considerably before he cracks a smile. He had so many questions for this strange man, but the voices weren’t prompting him to draw his sword. They were saying the opposite. They_ trusted _him._

_“It looks like you’ll need all the help you can get,” he laughs. “My name is Philza.”)_

“How is retirement treating you?” Phil’s question breaks Techno from his trance.

“It’s…” Techno thinks back on the past week and the days that had followed. The mornings spent farming potatoes and the nights teaching Wilbur how to cook different meals. “Quiet.”

“Yeah, that’s retirement for you.” He laughs and sits back again. From his chair, Techno looks out the window. The low temperature causes frosted rain to grow over the wooden shutters, but the faintest beams of a cloudy morning’s light peer through. “Tubbo has begun the reconstruction effort for New L’manburg.”

“It isn’t going to last. One way or another, the place will just fall to pieces again. Whether by another explosion or by its own government.” 

“I know. That’s why I’m helping them.” Techno chokes on his drink. “I’m not a fan of governments either, but it’s...I need to be there for Tommy. L’manburg is his everything. And...maybe their government can be good. Most of them are just kids, after all.”

“It always ends the same,” he growls. “Once you give people power, there is no going back. Child or not. There will _never_ be peace when there is a government behind it. I just-” Techno scrubs a hand over his face. He needs to be calm about this. This wasn’t his fight anymore. “Are they still looking for me?”

Phil sets his empty mug aside, crossing his legs. “Not to my knowledge. The cabinet is all preoccupied with the restoration effort. Tubbo has begun relations with the Dream SMP in hopes of establishing peace between the two nations. A few new people have joined the server as well. There’s an enderman hybrid, Ranboo, he reminds me of you.”

“Hah? He kills orphans?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who does that. He’s a good kid. I’m letting him stay in the house I built. I can always just make another anyway.”

“You better not be planning on adopting any more kids,” Techno says, recognizing the glint in Phil’s eyes. Phil nearly doubles over in laughter, covering his mouth to not wake up Wilbur. “I’m serious.”

“I’m not- the only kid I’ve adopted is Tommy!”

“That’s one too many.” A comfortable silence falls over them both. Techno takes their empty mugs and sets them in the sink to wash later, leaning against the windowsill. Unconsciously, he begins planning for the day. He should make a to-do list so he doesn’t forget things.

“Does…” Phil hesitates. Techno glances over blinking a few times. He needs to stop spacing out.

**_you need to sleep_ **

_s̷l̴e̷e̴p̴b̸l̶a̸d̸e̷_

“Does Wilbur remember me killing him..?”

Techno recalls the nights when he woke up to Wilbur screaming, tearing at his bandages, and sobbing into his shoulder, begging for someone to stop the pain. It would take a while but eventually, Wilbur would fall asleep in Techno’s arms. He never remembered in the morning. “Not exactly. He thinks it’s a nightmare. I’ve tried telling him the truth, but he always forgets it. Some days his memory is better than others, and sometimes he won’t remember who I am or where we are. It’s...it’s a process.”

“Hopefully time may fix it. There are a lot of side effects from the resurrection, and I’ve been researching in my free time, but I haven’t had a chance to read all the tomes. They’re in a language I’m not familiar with and translating them will take time.”

“He can stay here until you have,” he says ignoring Phil’s look of surprise. “I think he’s doing good out here. I’m not the _best_ option, but with the current circumstances…”

“Thank you,” Techno flushes and turns away. “Really, mate. This...I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It couldn’t have been easy. I’ll try visiting as much as I can.”

The sound of rustling from the attic has them both looking up. Techno watches Phil pale slightly. 

**_the house isnt explosion-proof this wont be good_ **

_s̷h̷i̸t̵s̶h̷i̴t̷s̴h̴i̶t̶s̵h̸i̵t̵s̷h̷i̶t̵s̴h̶i̵t̵s̶h̶i̸t̷_

He hadn’t thought out how the reunion would go down. This could harm Wilbur’s mental state, and Phil was struggling with the knowledge that his son was only half of himself. Before Techno could try ushering Phil out of the house, the trapdoor opens and Wilbur begins climbing down the ladder.

“Morning, Techno. I was thinking today we could-” Wilbur turns and freezes when his eyes land on Phil.

“Hello, Wil,” Phil offers Wilbur a small smile and a wave. His eyes begin tearing up at the sight of him. Thankfully, Wilbur no longer looked like a walking corpse. He still had a long recovery ahead of him, but it was progress. “It’s good to see you-”

“DAD!” In a blur, Wilbur dashes across the room and throws himself onto Phil. Phil immediately hugs Wilbur back, a hand tangling in his curls. “Dad- Dadaza- I’ve missed you so much! Techno said you’re staying in L’manburg. How is everyone? Do you like my nation? Isn’t it wonderful?” Phil visibly hesitates then hugs Wilbur tighter. “...dad? Did- did I say something wrong? Do you want some blue? Dad-”

“I’m sorry,” Phil croaks. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should’ve come sooner, I didn’t know, I’m sorry, my son. I’m so sorry, so so sorry, I can’t say it enough, but I’m so sorry.” He holds onto Wilbur tighter, sobbing into his shoulder.

**_this is awkward_ **

_w̶e̵'̵r̵e̷ ̷g̵o̷n̵n̶a̵ ̷c̶r̵y̶ ̶t̵h̵i̶s̴ ̴i̷s̸ ̶s̴o̴ ̴w̸h̴o̶l̵e̸s̸o̴m̵e̴_

“I’m gonna…” Techno vaguely gestures to the door. He quickly slips outside, gently shutting the front door behind him. Maybe he should visit L’manburg. Hubert and Moon were still at his old base along with most of his items. With a plan in mind, Techno leaves a message on the communicator telling Phil where he went and that he plans to be back in the morning. For a moment, Techno debates going back inside.

**_we arent family they would never want us_ **

_w̸e̶ ̷d̵o̷n̵t̶ ̴n̸e̷e̸d̷ ̵a̴n̷y̶o̸n̵e̶ ̵w̸e̶'̶r̴e̴ ̷e̷n̷o̶u̴g̶h̶_

“Yeah, you guys are right...” He mumbles. Before Techno could overthink his decision, he heads in the direction of L’manburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> techno, a kid: i want to conquer the world  
> phil: hell yeah little buddy
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	7. First Snow

_(“Wilbur, this is Tommy,” Wilbur eyes the boy beside Phil apprehensively. He was covered in dirt and clutching a golden apple to his chest, striped tail swishing behind him. There was a dark smear that ran across his cheeks and eyes similar to that of a bandit mask. “He’ll be staying with us for now.”_

_“Yeaaa, fuck you bitch!” Tommy immediately threw up his middle fingers at Wilbur. Phil glared down at Tommy who grinned up at him._

_“I think he’ll fit in perfectly,” Wilbur says dryly. He brings his knees to his chest, balancing his book on top. Phil chuckles and slips out of the room. Not even a minute had passed before Tommy was, quite literally, trying to stuff his nose in the book. “What the fuck are you doing?!”_

_“What- what?” Tommy starts sputtering when Wilbur pushes his face away. “I’m curious! I just wanna know whatchu’re reading!”_

_“Fuck off!”)_

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Phil flips a pancake. Wilbur drums his fingers along the table, occasionally peeking over towards Techno’s room. When he had returned from L’manburg, he had whispered some things to Phil before entering his room. That had been two days ago. Phil reassured Wilbur that, for Techno, it was normal, but he was still worried.

“Did you see Tommy? In L’manburg,” Wilbur listens to Phil hum. He sets the pancakes on a plate and starts a new batch, swirling the batter around in the pan. “Techno doesn’t like it when I mention Tommy. The last thing I remember was the election and, apparently, that was months ago.”

“Tommy is good. We’ve been helping with the reconstruction effort, and I’ve been fixing up his house.” He says. Wilbur holds back a snicker when the pancake nearly falls out of the pan, Phil scrambling to make sure it doesn’t hit the floor. “Hey, I’m a bit out of practice! I haven’t cooked in a kitchen in a while.”

Wilbur takes a plate when they’re finished. He waits until Phil has taken his seat to speak. “How come?”

“Well, after you and Tommy left, I figured there was no reason for me to stay at the empire any longer. I left Pete in charge and picked up adventuring again. I stayed on a few hardcore worlds. You’d like Endlantis its...”

_(“Wil, where are we going?” Tommy asks. They had been staying in Hypixel for the past couple of years earning money and honing their combat skills, but it wasn’t the home Wilbur was looking for. He was standing beside Tubbo- another teenager Tommy had befriended during their stay. The two were inseparable, and when Wilbur found out the kid was an orphan he decided maybe it would be alright if someone else joined their little family. And he liked Tubbo. Sometimes they would play songs together, Wilbur teaching him how to play his guitar, or Tubbo playing the ukulele as Wilbur sang. “It better not be shit, cause I like it here.”_

_“There’s a new server that opened up. The admin is an old friend of Techno’s, so he permitted us to stay there.” Wilbur patiently explains. He pays the fee for the travel tickets that would allow them through. It would be a difficult journey considering how many servers they have to pass through, but the pay off would be worth it. “It’ll be a brand new start for the three of us. We can do what we want with no one controlling us or telling us what to do.”_

_“Really?” Tubbo’s eyes light up. His tail started wagging excitedly, ears flopping when his head bounces upwards. “That’s awesome! Tommy, maybe we can start up that business idea I had.” It takes a moment, but when the words click, Tommy grins._

_“Fuck yeah! Time to scam some bitches!” Wilbur watches the two excitedly discuss their plans with mild fondness. They were his boys; he could see why Phil had such a soft spot for kids.)_

“...and then I died to a mini zombie, and by hardcore rules that meant I had to leave the server for good. It was tough leaving everything I had built behind, but if I hadn’t then I never would’ve started the new world- Wil? Wil, are you crying?”

“Huh?” Wilbur blinks. He reaches up and rubs his eyes. When had he started crying? Why was he crying? He takes out some blue and holds it close to his chest as he wipes his face clean. “I guess I was. I don’t remember why, though.”

“It’s alright, son,” Phil reaches across the table to rest his hand on top of Wilbur’s. “How has your memory been?”

“It’s getting better, or at least, I like to think it is. The- the book has been helping, and I think you being here has helped me too. Before you visited, I completely forgot you were even on the server. I’ve been having more trouble remembering the past than…” He stares at his untouched food, the pancakes having gone cold now, his appetite lost. 

“Do...was I a bad person?” Wilbur asks. Phil is silent, debating what he should say. “Deep down, I know I did all the fucked up things that I see in my dreams. And even though I don’t want to believe that I did, I know that it’s real. I hurt and manipulated _so_ many people…”

_(“Our nation’s gone- our nation is far behind us, Tommy.” Wilbur throws his arms out and spins around so he’s facing Tommy. The teenager stares at him with his mouth agape, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. “So let’s blow that mother fucker to smithereens!”_

_“Please, Wilbur, it isn’t too late,” Tommy begs. He reaches out to rest his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. For a moment, Wilbur falters. This was his brother- his baby brother who stole people’s things and was Wilbur’s biggest supporter of his music. “We can still take it back. It’s- L’manburg is our home it always will be.” But he didn’t understand- he could never understand. No one understood. Wilbur’s hands begin to shake at his sides. “Wilby-”_

_“If we can’t have Manburg, then no one- NO ONE can have Manburg,” he jerks out from Tommy’s hold and reaches into his coat pocket. “We’re gonna burn the place to the fucking ground and we’ll win!” Tommy watches in horror as Wilbur lights a match with his thumb. The flame dances around in front of his face, highlighting the manic grin that stretches across his face._

_“Tommy, let’s be the bad guys.”)_

Wilbur presses a hand on the scar. It had finally healed completely leaving only a clean line across his chest but the ache was always there. He had doubts it would ever go away. A stark reminder that what happened wasn’t a dream. That his own father killed him to keep his family saved- to save him from himself. “Sometimes...I wonder if it would’ve been better if I stayed dead. If that would've been easier for all of you...”

“Wil…” He feels a hand on his face, shaking as he opens his eyes. Phil's hands wipe away his tears. He opens his arms, and Wilbur rushes into them, sobbing into his dad's shoulder, clutching his shirt in shaking fingers. Phil's wings wrap around him comfortingly. 

This is how he died. Wilbur remembers being held close, the sword piercing through him and the blood filling his lungs, his father murmuring apologies into his hair. He remembers falling into a pit of darkness, reaching out begging for someone- anyone to save him, falling at speeds faster than his own tears. And yet this is the safest place he’s ever been. Wilbur cries. He cries and he doesn't stop- he can't stop. 

“You’ve done a lot of wonderful things. You created a _nation_ , Wilbur. And while, yes, you let your obsession get the best of you, those ideals are still there. You did a lot of terrible things as well, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn from your mistakes. I’m still learning from mine. The best we can do is just move forward.”

Wilbur sniffs against Phil’s shoulder. A hand rubs soothing circles on his back. “I don’t even remember what we argued about the night I left,” he whispers. “I- I remember screaming.”

_(“This- this isn’t living, Phil! I’ve never been able to live my own life because you won’t let me!” Wilbur screams, his voice bouncing off the walls. “I can’t go anywhere without you breathing down my next! And why? Because of some dumb accident as a kid?!”_

_“Wilbur, those were hunters, it wasn’t an accident! You could have died! You were dying! If I didn’t have that potion of healing, you would have died right then!” Phil stressed. “Please, Wil, I’m just trying to protect you-”_

_“I DON’T WANT YOUR PROTECTION!”)_

“And crying…”

_(“Wil...please…”_

_“I hate you.” The last thing he sees before running out of the room is Phil’s heartbroken face.)_

“And storming out but I can’t…remember...”

_(“Wil...Wilbur! Big man! Where are you going?!” Wilbur keeps walking forward, gripping onto his bag tightly, stubbornly wiping away his angry tears. He ignores his brother’s shouts, figuring Phil probably sent Tommy after him._

_“Go back home, Tommy! I’m leaving!” He’s stopped by Tommy grabbing onto the back of his coat. When Wilbur turns, the boy glares at him. His tail is puffed up in anger and he’s only wearing a sweater. He must’ve chased after Wilbur when he saw him leave the stronghold._

_“Then I’m going with you!”)_

“Freedom. You wanted freedom. I was too overprotective over you and it drove you away. Many of my friends have died because of simple mistakes out in the world, and after your accident, I was worried you’d share the same fate. I couldn’t protect you then and I…” He glances to Wilbur’s wings, broken and scarred. “I almost lost you. I thought that…”

“I’m…” Wilbur wipes his face and sits back. Wordlessly, he hands Phil some blue, watching his father crack a smile. “I’m sorry about what I said. I never meant it. I don’t think I physically _can_ hate you. You’re Philza!”

“I know, Wil,” he chuckles lightly. “I know. Since this is my last night, did you want to make lanterns? We haven’t made them in a while.”

“I...I’d like that.”

* * *

The usual blackness of the wintry night is replaced with the brilliant colors of countless lanterns. There is a lantern for every person Wilbur remembered and held close to his heart. Phil hadn’t complained when Wilbur came up with the idea. He just smiled and helped glue all the pieces together, mixing dye into the wax so the lanterns could glow different colors to represent each person. Wilbur stood in the snow lifting another lantern into the air. He watches it soar up into the air joining the rest.

In a way, they had created their own starry night.

“We should do this more often,” Wilbur whispers. He worriea that any louder would break the serene sight, head tilted toward the skies, the lights reflecting in his eyes. Phil hums from where he stands on the porch. He watches the lanterns with a soft smile, perfectly at ease. His small wings are relaxed on his back with the feathers shimmering under the glow. “We could make a new tradition off it.”

“Sure,” Phil smiles. Wilbur turns his gaze when the front door opens. Relief floods through him when he spots Techno. “Nice of you to join us, Techno. For a minute there, I thought you went into hibernation.”

“If only,” Techno grumbles. He had heavy bags under his eyes and still looked half-asleep, but when he saw the lanterns his eyes widened. “Woah…”

“Techno, did you want to light one?” Wilbur scoops a couple of lanterns off the snow and rushes over to the porch. Before Techno can refuse, Wilbur shoves the lantern into his hands. “Here, just have Phil light the wick like that and then wait until you feel the air pulling it up and give it a little boost.”

“How long did it take you guys to make these?” Phil shrugs. Despite his reluctance, Techno follows Wilbur’s instructions, and soon enough his lantern joined the rest, bumping into a couple along the way. “Oh. I guess that’s kinda cool.”

“We’re thinking of making a tradition out of it,” he leans his back against the rails, staring up at the sky. “Got any ideas?”

“Uh…” Techno yawns, ignoring Wilbur’s complaints when he rests his chin atop of his head. “What about the first snowfall of the year?”

“Huh, that’s nice. Especially out here where it snows all the time.” Phil bumps a lantern with his wing before it falls. He breaks out into a playful grin. “You have to join us though, Techno. Every year.”

“Hah?”

Wilbur smirks. “Yeah! Because you lit a lantern, you are legally obligated to take part in the tradition. That’s just how it works.” He starts running the moment Techno hops over the railing. He doesn’t get far before Techno tackles him, the two colliding in a heap on the snow. “Hey, don’t be so rough with me! I just finished healing! You could leave me some long-lasting injuries, you know!”

“You’re the one who started it! I’m not gonna take part in some dumb tradition- all I did was light a lantern!” Techno shoves a handful of snow onto Wilbur’s face. Wilbur squeaks indignantly.

“Well, too bad! You’re a part of it now. C’mon Phil, say something!”

“He’s right, Techno, that’s just how the rules go,” Phil calls from where he stayed on the porch. He had a hand covering his mouth stifling his laughter, watching the two roll around like children.

“What rules- _Wilbur!_ ” He screams when Wilbur manages to shovel snow down his shirt and takes off running. Wilbur doesn’t look back, sprinting through the field of lanterns, laughing freely as his legs guide him forward. He doesn’t worry about his memories or about L’manburg. There was no static in his ears or blood on his hands. He just keeps sprinting, Techno shouting after him, Phil laughing, the lanterns shimmering around him lighting his path forward.

For the first time in years, Wilbur feels alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> techno is totally taking part in the tradition
> 
> for anyone confused im gonna put a timeline of the events here; i do plan on expanding on things and im being vague on purpose but just so no one is too confused <3  
> phil has wil - wil has his accident and his wings get fucked - techno's parents die and he goes to the antarctic empire - phil goes to the antarctic empire - vibing years - techno disappears leaving phil in charge - tommy gets brought into the family - wil gets into argument and leaves + tommy follows - hypixel time + tubbox - dream smp
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	8. Second Chances

When Wilbur saw the abandoned guitar in Techno’s basement, he felt a sudden surge of motivation to play he had never felt before. He sits on the porch steps and tunes the guitar carefully, humming under his breath, plucking the strings to find the right note. He didn’t have a pick to play with, and it wouldn’t be the first time. Wilbur remembers sitting around a campfire with his fellow revolutionaries, playing even when his hands began to ache. It was a good way to forget about the war and stay in the moment. 

Techno is harvesting the wheat he had planted the week before. He was quieter after Phil left that morning which wasn’t out of character for him. Wilbur knew it was because Techno worried. Before Phil had gone, Techno had pressed a compass and an emerald into his hand, whispering too quietly for Wilbur to hear. He didn’t leave the doorway until Phil was out of sight, and even then it took Wilbur complaining about the draft that Techno finally moved.

“Why didn’t I go with him..?” Wilbur asks himself out loud. He clutches the guitar tighter. L’manburg was his home, and everyone he has ever cared about lived there. He _made_ L’manburg. So why hadn’t he gone with Phil?

 _Because you don’t want to face the truth,_ a voice whispers, _you don’t want to face their hatred._

_(“Did...did they hold a funeral for me?” Wilbur asks quietly. He watches Phil stiffen up, pausing by the bee farm he was building. Wilbur picks a poppy from the grass and lures a bee over. “Or make me a gravestone?”_

_“They…” Phil hesitates then sighs. Wilbur gently runs his finger over the bee’s head just like Tubbo taught him. He keeps his head down, avoiding Phil’s look of pity. “No. No, Wil, they didn’t.”)_

Wilbur decided to go with the first song he learned to play on guitar. He could remember all the songs he wrote, but he wanted to take his time. He took a deep breath and started playing. _Mary Had A Little Lamb_ had been his favorite as a child; it was the only thing Wilbur remembered of his mother. Phil didn’t like talking about her a lot, and she had died when Wilbur was very little. But he remembered her singing him to sleep.

Slowly, he began to sing the familiar verses. It was very quiet and gentle, almost silent, but the melody of the words was brought out by the caring stokes of the guitar’s strings. The lyrics flowed through him and into the air.

His singing fades leaving only a gentle whisper behind. His strumming eventually comes to a stop. Wilbur focused on his breathing, an overwhelming sense of calm filling his entire being. When he opens his eyes, he finds himself face-to-face with a blue sheep.

Wilbur gasps. “It’s a sign…” He slowly reaches out and sets his hand on the sheep’s head. Much to his surprise, the sheep let him pet them. “Do you want me to continue?

Before Wilbur could strum a wet nose pressed against his hand. The sheep had his eyes closed, little tail wagging from side to side. He broke out into a grin. “You...you are _adorable_.” He sets the guitar aside and cups the sheep’s face in both his hands. Wilbur begins scratching around their ears.

_(“That tickles!” Tubbo laughs, batting Wilbur’s hand away from his ear. The boy scrubs the tears away and gives him a wet smile. Wilbur chuckles sitting down beside Tubbo on the hill. “Thanks, Wil. I…” He wipes at his red-rimmed eyes. Wilbur gently brushes away his blond dyed hair from his eyes and meets Tubbo’s downward gaze._

_“Hey, we’re not gonna leave you. You’re family, Tubs. That’s never gonna change. You’re our little Tubbox! Tubbo in a box!” He pulls Tubbo into his side and begins ruffling his hair.)_

The sheep wiggles his way under Wilbur’s arm to settle onto his lap. Wilbur gently combs his fingers through the blue wool. “Alright, buddy, you can stay there.”

When Techno returns to the porch covered in dirt and carrying a wicker basket, Wilbur smiles. “Techno! I’ve named them Friend.”

“That’s great, Wilbur. I’m covered in manure.” He says in minor disgust.

“Well, if it makes you better, you don’t smell any different than usual.” Wilbur maintains eye contact with Techno for a maximum of a minute. Once that minute was over, he sprinted inside the cottage shouting in terror as the anarchist chased him.

* * *

“This is ridiculous,” Techno complained, a glass bowl in one hand and a large wooden spoon in the other. “I don’t know how I let you rope me into this.”

Wilbur laughs before leaning against the counter, watching Techno struggle mixing the flour into the cake dough. With every stab at the dough, a little more flour started to stain his black shirt. He didn’t even seem to notice, too preoccupied with the stabbing. Hand mixing was a lot of work, which is why he left the job to Techno. The teasing was just an extra plus.

“You told me it wasn’t hard at all to mix it by hand maybe, fifteen minutes ago? What happened?” The pig only glared before turning away and trying to mix some more. Wilbur hums. He reaches a hand into the bag of flour, gathering a handful.

“How is this- WILBUR!” Techno screams when the flour hits his face. Wilbur doubles over laughing, a hand grasping the counter so he doesn’t fall. He looks up just in time for Techno to dump the remaining flour onto his head. He spits out the powder that happened to get in his mouth, a thin layer of flour covering his glasses. “You really should have seen that coming.”

Friend is curled up on an armchair in front of the fireplace, bundled up in Wilbur’s cape, adorning a new collar with a nametag. His head peeks up when Wilbur’s laughter got too loud. They blink sleepily at the two bickering before lying back down again. Frost had begun settling on the windows and if Wilbur focused, he could hear the harsh winds rattle against the glass. A blizzard was coming.

_(“Hand mixing is hard, yes, but you have to fold it first then start mixing.” Niki explains. She reaches out to brush the flour out of Fundy’s fur and lightly slaps Tommy’s hand when he tries to eat some dough. “It helps distribute the flour evenly into the dough and bring it together. Now, we have to scoop out the dough and roll them into balls like this. That way the size stays consistent and they will finish cooking at the same time. Eret, can you pass me the tray please?”)_

“Okay I think- I think we got it,” Wilbur peers over Techno’s shoulder into the bowl. Before Techno could stop him, Wilbur sticks his finger into the dough and pops it into his mouth. “Mmm, yeah. That tastes like cake. Okay, lets shove this bad boy into the oven and get working on the frosting.”

“Bruuuuh. How do you even know all this?”

“I told you, Niki taught me. I’m practically an expert.” He grabs another bowl and dumps all the frosting ingredients inside. “...should I have measured that?”

Techno paused, pouring the dough into a pan. He glares up at Wilbur who sheepishly smiles back. “You’re going to kill us.”

“Uh...I’m sure it’ll be fine! Besides, you’re the Blade! Nothing kills you! And I cheated death.” A tense silence fills the kitchen. Wilbur peeks over. Talking with Techno was like walking on eggshells, and when Wilbur thought they were bonding he always tore open a scar. He was surprised Techno hadn’t stormed off already.

“I’m not some immortal beast, you know.” Techno mumbles. His tone was noncommittal, and his face gave nothing away. “I’ve died a lot, actually. I bleed just like everyone else, and I have emotions contrary to popular belief. I just...” He grips onto his arms tighter. “I’m a _person_ , Wilbur.”

“I...did I do something?” Wilbur’s hands curl into fists. For a moment, an emotion flickers across Techno’s face. Guilt. “Techno, what did I do?”

“I was your weapon. You...watched me kill Tubbo.”

No.

_(“Tubbo, what are you doing in the festival?” Wilbur eyes the teenager warily. Tommy stands beside him looking just as worried but for a different reason. Tubbo seems confused for a moment then brightens up._

_“I have a speech!” Wilbur’s anger boiled.)_

“You just stood on the sidelines and _watched_ as I was placed in a high-pressure situation, alone, with an entire government against me.”

 _No._ No, he wouldn’t. The guilt was like gasoline in his gut. His insides died slowly in the toxicity, needing no more than a spark to set it ablaze.

_(“Wil- Wilbur?!” Tubbo shrieks, his eyes darting up to the roof they were hiding on. Wilbur kept his hand over Tommy’s mouth to muffle his angry shouts. He could see the fear in his eyes as he gripped the concrete walls to his execution chamber. For a brief moment, Techno made eye contact with Wilbur. “You- you won’t kill me, will you?”_

_Wilbur nods. Techno pulls the trigger.)_

Wilbur grips his head, digging his nails into his scalp. His vision was blurring. Techno was saying something, but he couldn’t hear him over the ringing. Why was the room so cold?

_(“You bastard- why did you stop me?!” Tommy gripped Wilbur’s lapels, teeth grinding together. Despite his anger, tears were streaming down his dirty face. “I could have saved Tubbo! But you- you just made us watch! You just let Techno betray us!” Wilbur calmly reaches up and grabs Tommy’s hand. He tightened his grip until Tommy winced, pulling away, glaring at him through his tears._

_“It had to be done,” Wilbur says coolly. He reaches into his pocket pulling out a cigarette, the smoke relaxing his nerves. He glances over to where a respawned Tubbo was getting bandaged up by Niki. “In war, lives are lost.”)_

The ding of the oven’s timer brought him out of his trance. He’s sweating. Wilbur rests a hand on his chest feeling his rapid heartbeat. He hadn’t been the one to kill Tubbo, but he may as well have pulled the trigger. Tubbo, in his moment of fear, had turned to Wilbur for help and he turned his back to him. He- he had gone looking for the button, hadn’t he? Had he pressed it then? No, the button was gone. The button was gone and Schlatt had only _taunted_ him with that.

“Wilbur, I’m going to touch you. Nod once if you’re okay with that,” he can faintly hear Techno’s voice past the ringing. The cake had been removed and set aside. The heat from the oven didn't help. He felt so _cold._ Wilbur, his movements laced with hesitation and fear, nodded slightly. An arm wrapped around his shoulders tugging him into a solid chest. Wilbur clutches onto Techno’s shirt to ground himself. “I need you to breathe, Wilbur.”

“I just watched him die…” Wilbur whispers. He stares at the floor. Had that nail always been crooked? The floorboard could easily be removed without much effort. “I’m a monster.”

“Wilbur, what do you remember?”

“I remember watching you kill Tubbo and...and just not _caring_. Why didn’t I care? I raised Tubbo like a brother I- I loved him.”

“You did care. Wil, that night, I overheard you crying,” he blinks. Techno sighs, awkwardly patting Wilbur’s head. “You...you were sitting next to Tubbo begging him to forgive you. That you were sorry for letting it get this bad.”

_(“I’m sorry Tubs…” The boy’s hand is limp. His chest is barely rising. His entire chest was covered in bandages and firework scars were running across his face. Niki said it would be a miracle if Tubbo could still hear after this. Wilbur presses his forehead against Tubbo’s hand sobs. “I’m so sorry…”)_

“In a way, I think I understand what happened,” Techno hands Wilbur a glass of water. “I’ve...there was a time I lost myself as well. I got so obsessed with my goal that I used the ones around me.”

_(“I built a nation- I can fucking do it again!”)_

“And I even ended up killing some of them when that got in my way…”

_(“Tommy, if you get in my way again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”)_

“Then, when I finally achieved what I set out to do, I just felt...empty. I didn’t see what the point was in continuing on.”

_(“Phil- Phil, kill me.”)_

“How did you snap out of it..?” Wilbur asks shakily. His hands are shaking around the glass. Techno leans back on the counter and chuckles softly. He glances up at Wilbur, lips quirked in a faint smile.

“Who do you think?”

“...Phil.” 

“See, the thing is with Phil is he always sees the good in people. I don’t always agree with his decisions, but he’s pretty good at picking and choosing who he aligns himself with,” he lowers his hand when Friend comes over, having sensed Wilbur’s sadness, nuzzling their nose into his palm. “Phil brought you back because he didn’t think you were completely lost. It could’ve just been a spur of the moment choice, but Phil always thinks things through. He doesn’t just do things because he feels like it.”

“Yeah…” Wilbur mumbles. Techno says something else, but the words fall on deaf ears. He doesn’t react when Techno slips past him, staring blankly at the loose floorboard. Friend nudges his hand. He sighs, gently scritching under the sheep’s chin. “...they’ll never forgive me…” He mumbles. “Maybe...I deserve that…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing bad ever happened to friend what do you mean :)  
> friends pronouns are he/them uwu
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
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	9. Aurora Borealis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw // animal death

_(“Far up north, there is a ribbon that cuts through the sky. Where streams of emeralds dance and twirl in the space between the stars. Of snow that stretches far beyond one’s imagination. Under the twinkling stars, there once was an empire. It’s people prospered and the frozen lands flourished under their tender care.”_

_“What happened to the empire, mama?”_

_“One night, the king murdered his wife and child in their sleep, and the townsfolk began slaughtering each other in the streets. When the sun rose, not a single soul was left alive. Some say that the spirits can speak to their descendants and try to get them to repeat the events of that night.”_

_“Woah…”)_

**_technolost gonna freeze to death technoconfused_ **

_t̵h̶i̸s̵ ̷i̶s̵ ̷b̵o̶r̴i̵n̷g̴ ̷l̸e̵t̴s̴ ̷g̴o̷ ̶h̸o̵m̴e̵ ̶a̷l̵r̵e̵a̷d̸y̷!̴!̸!̸_

“Look, Chat, we’re almost home. I’m the human GPS- I know where I’m going,” Techno says, his usual drawl heavy with exhaustion. Protruding sticks clung at the edges of his trousers, leaves grabbing at his cape as he trudged through the dense forest. In one gloved hand was a massive satchel, slung over his shoulder resting against the rich silk of his blue cape. In the other fist was a torch that lit his way. He was beginning to regret going out without Carl; riding on horseback easily would’ve cut the journey’s time in half. He hadn’t thought finding the fortress would take him days. “I’m pretty tired from finding these wither skulls for you guys. Take it down a notch.” The voices shifted their tone at that.

**_we did very well we are powerful_ **

_A̷N̴A̴R̸C̷H̸Y̵ ̶P̶O̵G̴C̷H̸A̷M̶P̶ ̵T̴E̵C̸H̶N̴O̷P̵O̴G̵_

The softening of Chat’s tone is a relief to Techno’s exhausted mind. He's damp, bruised, and starving; fighting a variety of axe and bow-wielding withers wasn’t a walk in the park even for the great Technoblade. Worst of all, he’d run out of fire resistance potions on the trip and that meant another loathsome trip into the nether for magma cream. The only food he had on him were golden carrots and while they helped fill his stomach, Techno is beginning to miss home-cooked meals.

_(His parents’ kindness had led to their death. Techno watches the flames consume his childhood home, destroying the massacre inside. He loosely held onto the knife in one hand and a red cape that belonged to his father was wrapped around his tiny form. His only home was gone, and so was his family._

**_go north go north go north_ **

_a̵d̸v̴e̵n̷t̴u̷r̵e̸ ̷t̸i̷m̴e̴ ̸w̸e̶e̵e̴e̶_

_“North…” Distantly, Techno remembers the bedtime stories his mother told him, and the history lessons his father gave him over breakfast. He would never hear her singing again, or sit on his father’s lap listening to the stories he told of his journeys. Their dismembered bodies were consumed by the flames along with the rest of his innocent memories._

_It hits him all at once. Techno falls to his knees. He screams until his throat is raw and his eyes sting. His stomach lurches at the blood on his clothes. He was alone. His whole world had vanished for him in a single night. Now there was only pain, enough to break him, enough to change him beyond recognition.)_

Traversing another stretch of dense undergrowth, Techno nearly let out a shout of delight when he spots smoke in the distance. The snow is beginning to clot on the leaves and bushes snagging his clothes, frosting the caps of mushrooms that litter the ground, and powdering the dimly lit forest floor. Thick moss gives way to the permafrost-hardened earth. He took in a deep breath, the tension seeping out from his shoulders.

“Almost there, Chat.” Chat celebrates alongside him, a pleasant buzz in his head rather than the splitting screeches that haunted him in the nether. It seemed that retirement had made them thirstier than usual. Impromptu trips like these helped sate their hunger, and Wilbur’s recovery was continuing smoothly so Techno’s worries had lessened. He was able to leave the cabin knowing he could return to Wilbur curled in an armchair reading a book, Friend nestled on his lap. Sometimes Phil would be there when Techno returned, cooking food or tending the fire, greeting him with a warm smile.

Thinking of the cottage urges him forward. Bashing his way through the last of the thinning woodland, Techno basks in the frigid wind tugging at his loose braid. He preferred short hair, but Wilbur was insistent that he kept it long. It was only when Wilbur asked Phil to braid their hair that he understood the intention. A “family braid” he called it. Techno didn’t have it in him to argue.

The edge of the tundra welcomes him back, moonlight reflecting off the glittering expanse of white.

_(“You led me here for another reason...why?” Techno rests his hand on the torn tapestry. The cloth held a story of the empire before Techno and Phil came, before the carnage. There were dark stains etched into the stones that made his senses cringe back in disgust. He was surprised the blood had survived all these years. “You said world domination would make me feel better, but it hasn’t. That was just an excuse to get me out here.”_

_The voices stay silent._

_“You’re more than just voices in my head. I didn’t hear you until my parents died. Why?” Their silence only fuels his anger. “WHY?!”_

**_you are the last living descent of this empire_ **

_y̷o̷u̸'̸r̵e̸ ̵t̸h̸e̴ ̴b̸l̷o̷o̷d̴ ̴g̶o̵d̶'̶s̴ ̷o̷n̷l̵y̸ ̵v̸a̴s̸s̵a̵l̶!̵_

_He took a shaky step back. When Techno stares up at the tapestry again, he can see the parallels. The pink hair, the red eyes, the swine features depicted on the vague silhouettes. How did he never see it before?)_

“This is the life, Chat.” he breathes, his voice lifting upwards with delight. He ignores the underlying craving for violence from some of the voices in favor of agreement from others. He was out of the damn nether, and he wasn’t going to let anything ruin his mood.

Retirement suits Techno well. He had his doubts in the beginning, but Phil was right; it's good for him. It was always a matter of time before Techno lost control when living in high-pace environments, but out here there is nothing to set him off. Blood no longer became a trigger that unlocked the beast inside him. Chat, surprisingly, enjoys retirement. They love naming the animals that Techno let stay on his property, teasing him when he said their names wrong, or poorly singing along to Wilbur’s music.

It is the closest thing to home that they’ve had in a long time.

_(Techno knew something was wrong when he began seeing people that weren’t there. At first, he believed it was the fatigue messing with his head. Phil had looked to him in worry and insisted he take better care of himself rather than pouring over battle plans. Even Wilbur had been worried, threatening to knock Techno out if it meant he’d take a nap._

_Then the voices began communicating with the visions._

_“This was my crown, you know,” a faceless body says. Techno runs his fingers over the crown, the jewels shining under the torchlights, his oversized cape pooling around his feet. He never understood how the crown seemed to always fit him just perfectly. There was a lot he didn’t understand about the empire. “This entire empire was mine, once.”_

_“What happened?” Techno looks up to the person at his side. The body turns, the blank grey face staring straight into his soul._

_“I sacrificed my family to the blood god.”)_

Techno is about an hour away from the cottage when the thousands of voices clambering around his head began shrieking with worry.

**_DANGER DANGER KILL THEM KILL DEFEND PROTECT KILL KILL_ **

_M̸̞͗O̸̤͌B̴͉̒S̴̹̔ ̵͔̉T̷͓́E̸̜͝C̸̈́ͅĤ̸̥N̴͖̔O̷͉͠P̴̩̑R̴̯͛O̵̼̎T̵̻͊E̴̥͋C̶͍̋T̷̰͆ ̸̳͒M̴̓ͅO̷̟͝B̸̖͋S̶̰͒ ̸̫̊B̴̧Ľ̶̜Õ̶̖O̵̯͝D̴̫̚ ̴̢̒F̷̺̕O̵̱͗R̷͖͂ ̸͍͝T̷̖̏H̴͙̋E̴̘͐ ̶̪̔B̶̞͠L̸͉͂Ő̶̥Ö̷̗́D̷̠͌ ̸͇̈́G̴̳̒O̸̹͊D̴̝͆ ̶̙̇K̴̨̓I̵̜͒L̷̡̚L̵͎̓_

Chat is rarely wrong, and if there were mobs at the house then that meant Wilbur was in danger. But he told Wilbur never to go outside during the night; even with all the torches Techno placed, the tundra was a nesting ground for mobs to spawn. “Quiet, chat, I’m going. You screamin’ isn’t gonna make me go faster.”

Techno breaks out into a jog, saving his energy just in case there is a fight awaiting him. He just never could catch a break.

_(The sword clatters onto the ground._

_“STOP IT!” He covers his ears. His attempt to block out the voices is futile. Their screeching only grows louder. Thousands of them are reaching out for him, countless red eyes piercing into his soul from the shadows, hands clutching his clothes. Techno can’t turn his gaze away from the blood and broken antlers on the floor. Phil had entered and the voices took over. If Techno hadn’t regained control in time, that could’ve been his head. “PHIL IS OUR FRIEND! WE DON’T-”_

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD_ **

_B̶̤̓L̷̘̚O̸̲̚O̵̯̚D̵̟̊F̸̪̈O̴̻̽R̵̝̀T̵̙͑H̵̨̄E̸̝̎Ḅ̵͗L̵̜̑Ơ̶͓O̸̢͋D̸͔͑G̸̬̿O̶̩D̶̛̺B̶̬͂L̵̥̇O̷͔̽Ö̵̪D̸̹̒F̶̙̌O̷̳͗R̶̮̾Ṱ̸͐H̵̨̛B̵͈̅Ḽ̷O̴̮͋O̷̥͌D̶̩͠G̶͓̈́O̸̝̓Ḏ̵͊_

_“STOP IT!” All he could see was red. His instincts were screaming for him to run, but the voices were screaming at him to finish the job. Techno could feel himself splitting apart at the seams. “STOP IT STOP IT STOP-”_

_Darkness. All Techno can see is darkness. There is a hand covering his eyes and another gripping his shoulder. The hands clutching his hands disappeared, and the eyes were no longer staring at him. “Techno, breathe,” Phil says softly. Techno clings onto his voice like a lifeline. He blindly grasps in front of him, hand pressing against Phil’s chest. He could feel his steady heartbeat. Despite everything, he wasn’t afraid. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving. I’m here.”)_

_“TECHNOBLADE!”_ The raw scream sends Techno sprinting the last stretch. He can make out the cottage, the stables where Carl is causing a panic, and a horde of zombies honing in on a single point.

**_BLOOD WE SMELL BLOOD_ **

_s̵o̸m̶e̶o̸n̷e̶ ̷i̶s̶ ̸h̴u̸r̷t̵i̶n̷g̵ ̷h̵i̷m̶ ̵k̸i̸l̴l̷ ̷t̶h̶e̸m̶ ̴k̷i̷l̵l̷ ̵k̶i̸l̴l̷ ̵k̸I̴L̶L̸_

When the first zombie comes, it's easy. The head comes off in a clean swipe of his sword, putrid blood splattering onto the snow. He watches the zombies turn their attention on him, brain dead and lacking the intelligence to know they never should've come here. Through the crowd, Techno can see an injured Wilbur clutching a sword and nudging Friend behind himself.

**_TECHNOBLADE NEVER DIES_ **

_B̶̊͜L̶̤̔O̴̰̽Ỏ̵̟D̸̗̕ ̷̤̃F̷͙͝O̴̡͑R̵̝̂ ̸̠͘T̸̲̈́H̶̗̐É̸̝ ̸͓̌B̷͔Ĺ̵͎O̵̱͠O̴͍͠D̷͖͝ ̵̹̌Ğ̴̝O̷̰̕D̶͓͆_

A maniacal urge to kill comes over him. He's outnumbered, but that only makes it better. It’s never any fun when it's just one on one. He belongs here more than he ever did with people who shouldn't love him anymore. The groans of zombies, the sound of bones breaking, Chat’s deafening cheers, his steady breathing; it's all a symphony, a grand orchestra of noises that urge Techno forward.

It’s a dance he is all too familiar with.

_(Techno adjusts the skull mask over his face. The eyeholes limited his vision and he was only able to see what was in front of him. He learned, through practice, that when he loses control he will blindly attack whatever is in front of him. The skull made sure he couldn’t see the allies behind him. “Are you sure you don’t want us to come with?” Phil asks him again, helping carry his bags into the boat._

_“Until I can control myself, everyone is in danger.” Techno mumbles. Phil’s wings shuffle uncertainly and he attempts at a smile. Neither of them had been good with partings. When Techno left for his first war, Phil had fretted over him the entire morning until Techno shoved him out of his room. “And besides, the Antarctic Empire needs a leader. There is no one else I trust more than you to do a good job.”_

_“Wil is gonna miss you,” the proclamation makes him hesitate. Techno glances towards the stronghold where his friend resided, unaware of what was taking place. He never had siblings, but Wilbur was the closest thing he’s ever had to one. If not for him Techno doubted he’d even have a sliver of a childhood. “Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye?”_

_“I’m sure.” Techno rests his hand on Phil’s shoulder. In the years they spent together, Techno had grown taller than him. When they first met on the snowy mountain top Techno had barely reached Phil’s elbow. Now Phil was just a little past Techno’s shoulder. “I’ll see you on the other side, Phil.”_

_“Keep in contact, will you?” Phil chuckles bumping his elbow into Techno’s ribs. “I wanna hear how the great Technoblade turns the universe on its head.” Techno smiles.)_

“Wilbur? Wilbur?!” Techno rushes over to the crumpled figure. He tosses his sword aside on the snow. Wilbur doesn’t even react when Techno kneels beside him. Tear tracks are staining his cheeks. There are bite marks along his arms and some scratches visible at the angle. “Wil, you’re covered in blood. Where did they get you?”

**_not his not his not his_ **

_b̵l̴o̵o̸d̷ ̶b̴l̸o̵o̶d̸ ̶b̸l̴o̷o̵d̴ ̷b̶l̴o̸o̸d̵_

"N...not mine..."

Techno follows Wilbur’s gaze downwards. His heart plummets.

Clutched in his arms is an unconscious Friend. The sheep is cradled close with a limp head resting on his shoulder. Chat is eerily silent. There is blood staining Friend’s once vibrant coat.

“There was a...I didn’t mean to…” Wilbur whispers. He tugs Friend closer to his chest. He buries his shaking fingers into the sheep’s wool. “Friend didn’t want to come inside and...and then there were zombies- and...I- I didn’t mean to hit them I didn’t- he won’t stop bleeding- Techno, why won’t he stop bleeding?”

A deep cut runs across Friend’s underside. Wilbur holds a hand to the slash, but no matter how much pressure he applies the blood still gushes between his fingers and oozes under his hand. The bright red seeps in the wool, taking on a brownish-purple hue. The ends of Friend’s wool has begun turning white and breaking off from their body. The white particles disappear before they reach the ground.

“Wil…” Techno swallows the lump in his throat. He rests a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “I think he’s dying.”

“No- no, he can’t…” His voice cracks. “I was...I was trynna chop the zombie and I...I chopped my Friend…” Wilbur buries his face in the wool and hugs the sheep closer. “I’m so sorry...this... I killed my friend...I…”

Techno rests his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. Wilbur holds onto Friend until they despawn leaving behind only white particles. They, too, disappear in seconds. His fingers clutch the empty air, eyes glossy and unfocused, his brain still processing everything.

“Do you want to stay out here a little longer?” Wilbur nods. Techno unclips his cape and tucks it around Wilbur’s shoulders. He’ll need to help Wilbur wash the blood off and patch his new injuries, but for now, he just stays by his side. Wilbur digs into his pocket pulling out a blue stone, holding it in Friend’s place. It seemed to help because he stopped sobbing. He wipes the tears and snot away with his wrist.

“...Techno?” His voice is hoarse. Wilbur’s head hangs low, the curls casting shadows over his face. “You...aren’t going to leave...are you?” The question takes Techno off guard.

_(“What the fuck are you doing here?” Wilbur spat when Tommy led Techno into the ravine. He looked worse than Tommy described, holding onto the wall to keep himself upright, a cigarette limply held between his lips. There were dark bags under his eyes and Techno could tell he hadn’t eaten in days. “Tommy, I told you we don’t need any help.”_

_“But he’s the Blade! Schlatt won’t have a chance against us, and he said he’d help us!” Tommy insists. Techno lets the two bicker and scans the area. It would be difficult as hell, but he could work with this. For a brief moment, Techno catches Wilbur’s eye. The man’s eyes hold nothing but bitterness in them. He wasn’t the kid Techno remembered, but neither was he. He knew they could ever make up for the stolen time._

_Techno lost his brother the moment he departed on that boat all those years ago.)_

Hanging in the sky above them was the aurora borealis. Like a brilliant green road, it snaked through the air and disappeared behind the trees, a dark purple aura exploding from the middle. The lights shimmered and stretched as far as the eye could see. Behind them, countless stars twinkled, a bright glow settling over the two. It is just as beautiful as the stories told.

Wilbur stiffens when Techno pulls him into a loose hug. He's so _cold._ “I won’t leave you, Wil.” At the vow, Wilbur broke. He cries like there was too much raw pain inside him to be contained. His upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces their way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as he gasps for breath. The soothing words Techno mumbles against his hair make no difference at all. He weakly punches Techno’s chest. Wilbur is beyond all reason, beyond all-natural methods of calming. 

But Techno never let go. He just hugs Wilbur closer and took on the full force of his breakdown.

And that was enough for the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f in the chat for friend  
> also highkey this has been my favorite chapter so far :)
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	10. Ashes to Ashes

.After helping Wilbur clean off all the blood and treating his wounds, Techno went downstairs to prepare a quick meal. He hadn’t eaten since he got back and his adrenaline was beginning to wear off

A crash upstairs had him drop everything. When Techno found Wilbur he had fallen onto the floor, completely unconscious. The mirror had been shattered and broken glass was scattered around the room. Wilbur’s knuckles were bleeding, and there was a trail of blood trickling down his head.

**_something is wrong its all wrong not good_ **

_z̴o̵m̶b̴i̴e̸ ̸h̴e̸'̵s̵ ̷a̷ ̶z̶o̶m̴b̴i̷e̷ ̷i̵t̶s̸ ̴t̴h̵e̷ ̷a̷p̷o̶c̵a̷l̷y̶p̶s̵e̴!̵_

“C’mon, Wil,” Techno tugs Wilbur into his arms. There was a long gash on the side of his head. His sweat-soaked hair stuck to his forehead and his skin burns with the heat of a fever. Some tiny pieces of glass were stuck in his hands. What worried him wasn’t the fever or the state his body was in; Wilbur’s heart wasn’t beating. Digging through his inventory, Techno pulls out a health potion he kept on him in case of emergencies.

_(“You’re pretty shit at making potions,” Wilbur comments. He laughs and ducks when Techno throws a spoon at him. “Hey! I know what I’m talking about- a part of my life was dedicated to making drugs! That’s how L’manburg started, you know.”_

_“Wow, so very impressive,” Techno says sarcastically. He mixes the ghast tear into the awkward potion watching the bubbles rise. He ignores Wilbur standing on his tippy toes to peer over his shoulder and watch. “And they’re just potions. How do you even make them taste better?”_

_“Well, I could show you. If you ask nicely- okay, okay, stop throwing things at me- TECHNO!”)_

Using a potion in this state could worsen things, but it was his only option. Without a heart, his body would shut down completely. He needed the blood to keep pumping, and finding another alternative would take too long. Techno struggles to make sure Wilbur swallows as much as he can without choking. Some of the pink liquid spills out of his mouth, trickling onto the floor, mixing with the blood. When the bottle is empty he sets it aside.

He lays Wilbur over his lap and tilts his head back so his airways are open. His hand rests on his chest. Techno waits. And he _waits._ Was the potion not enough? Techno didn’t have time to get another potion, and there was nothing up here that could help. Wilbur was going to _die_ and it was all his damn fault and-

_Ba-dump_

It was faint and weak, but Techno felt his heartbeat nonetheless. In a moment of vulnerability, Techno crumbles forward pressing their foreheads together. That was too close. Even when Wilbur had been in comatose, he never had gotten this close to death. If he had just been a second too slow or if he hadn’t heard the crash-

**_you did good_ **

_w̸e̶ ̶s̸h̶o̷u̷l̷d̸ ̸b̵e̴c̶o̷m̶e̸ ̶d̵o̸c̵t̷o̶r̸s̷_

Chat’s whispers interrupt his spiral. Their voices are soft and comforting, their reassurances helping ease his anxiety.

“...thanks guys.” Techno eventually mumbles. They buzz happily in his head. Techno works on laying Wilbur gently onto his bed but refrains from putting any covers on him. Wilbur is still abnormally cold, but extra layers would do far more harm than good. His fever needs to break first. He had to take things one at a time. He quickly goes downstairs, fills a bowl to the brim with water, and carries it to Wilbur’s bedside. “I’m really regretting listening to you and putting ladders rather than stairs. It makes my job a whole lot harder.” He complains to fill the silence. He picks up a rag, soaks it in the water, and then lays it across his flushed forehead. He takes out a roll of bandages and tends to the new injuries.

What had prompted this? Wilbur’s recovery had been going smoothly over the past couple of months. Other than the occasional panic attacks and traumatic flashbacks, he had been doing well. Wilbur’s memory was getting worse but Techno dared to call him happy. So why now? He might have pneumonia, but even then the chances seemed slim. The symptoms wouldn’t hit him as suddenly as they had, and Wilbur reassured him he hadn’t been outside long. The shock of Friend’s death may have been what set him off, but that didn’t explain the fever or the cease of his heart.

As much as Techno hated to admit it, he was out of his element. He could help Wilbur stay comfortable in his impaired state, change his dressings every day so his wounds weren’t infected, ensure that he was hydrated and clean, but that was it. 

“I never should’ve gone to the nether…” Techno mumbles. He watches a string of harsh coughs shake Wilbur’s pale and fragile form. Subconsciously, Techno reaches out and grabs Wilbur’s hand. He squeezes tightly, childishly hoping for a response. “I should’ve done more…”

* * *

On the third day, Phil showed up on his doorstep.

When Phil arrived the first thing he did was go see Wilbur. Techno had stayed in the foyer deciding to leave the two alone. It didn't feel right being there. An hour later Phil climbed down the ladder, an old dusty book tucked under his arm, eyes rimmed with red. He hadn’t spoken a word. A quick peek in the attic and Techno saw Wilbur’s still form. Techno followed Phil onto the porch.

Techno buries further in his cape. The harsh winds whip his hair around his face, the chill already settling deep into his bones. A blizzard was making its way through the lands and the worst had yet to come. In a few weeks, Techno was certain the snow would reach the porch. He hated the snow.

He hadn’t slept a wink and the fatigue was beginning to weigh in. Every noise set him on high alert, bristling whenever he saw movement in the corner of his eye. There was only so much coffee and leftover baked goods could do. All that stood between Techno and sleep was his determination.

“How much do you know about the revival system?” Phil breaks the silence. Techno groggily blinks. He rubs the back of his head in thought.

“Uhh...not a lot,” Phil tips his head indicating for him to continue. “I know that everyone has three ‘real’ lives. It’s nearly impossible to tell though what death will count.”

“That’s true,” he sighs. Techno tugs his hood up when it begins snowing, the snowflakes settling in Phil’s hair. “The reason why the revival system works is that it brings back our souls rather than our bodies. If an event is traumatic enough, our body dies and our soul takes up a new one. A life.” At Techno’s blank stare, Phil chuckles. “I was alone for a long time! There wasn’t much to do _except_ reading, and I’ve always been curious. You would be surprised by all the books I’ve found.”

“That makes sense,” he eventually agrees.

“I looted this book off an evoker along with the totem of resurrection I used on Wil,” the thick book is dropped onto the railing. Techno reigns in his curiosity as Phil flips through the worn pages eventually stopping on a diagram. “I...usually, a lot of care and time is placed into the ritual, but mine was rather scuffed.”

“Phil…” None of this sounded good. Techno glanced towards the attic, the curtains drawn over the window. “Cut to the chase.”

“Wilbur doesn’t have a soul.”

“...hah?”

“I don’t- I don’t know _why,_ but something went wrong. I still haven’t quite fully deciphered everything, this is all just guesses and some loose facts.He maintained his mind and body, but his soul stayed behind. What we have is...a combination, of sorts. But he’s still my son. It doesn’t matter what form he takes, he will _always_ be my son.”

“Explains his memory issues,” Techno mumbles. This was worse than he thought. He sighs, leaning back on his heels. “But why now? It’s been nearly two months since the 16th. You’d think this would’ve happened when he woke up.”

“He’s living on borrowed time granted by the totem. Without a soul, he can’t live normally as we can. Totems of resurrection only work if the soul they are attempting to bring back _wants_ to. The only reason why Wil survived this long was his will to live.”

_(“You’re always so happy,” Techno grumbles. He eyes Wilbur from the kitchen table. Wilbur is cuddling with Friend in front of the fireplace humming and reading a book. He looks up tilting his head curiously. Techno squints back. His eyesight had been getting worse recently. Maybe he needed glasses... “How do you do it?”_

_“I lie to myself. It’s how you keep yourself sane!” Wilbur says without missing a beat. Techno can’t help but crack a smile. Friend nudges his head against Wilbur’s chest and their tail begins wagging when he pets them. “When my head goes ‘hey, Wil, do you remember killing all your friends and betraying your family?’ I say ‘I didn’t do that ha la la la~!’” He grins when Techno curls in on himself laughing. “There’s no point in focusing on being sad!”)_

Techno feels sick.

Phil tightens his grip on the rails until his knuckles turn white. “It...what happened, Techno?”

Techno avoids Phil’s imploring gaze. He stares at the spot where all of this had started. The bloody snow had cleared away leaving no evidence, but Techno knew. The screams echoed in his mind. “He killed his friend on accident. I tried helping, but it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry, Phil. You trusted me to keep him safe, and all I’ve done is complicate the situation.”

He expected backlash. He deserved that and more. He tenses up preparing for the screams and tears.

They never came.

“No, you haven’t. I...Techno, what happened to us? I can’t help but feel...at fault. That all of this was fueled by me. If I just paid more attention…” Phil chuckles humorlessly. “I never should’ve let them go in the first place.”

“Phil…” Techno looks over. Phil’s hand is shaking as he grips a blue rock he must’ve taken from Wilbur’s reserve. It wasn’t helping because the tension in his shoulders never left. He kept holding on.

“Techno...am I a bad dad?” He asks. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes stared across the tundra in a mournful gaze. Techno has never seen him looked so defeated. “With everything that’s happened, I can’t help the guilt. If I had just done _something_ \- anything- then maybe…”

“Phil, you’ve done your best.”

“I haven’t Techno. I’ve- I’ve failed them. I’ve failed my boys.” Phil whispers. It’s like the fire in him has been doused with ice water. Techno is standing right next to him, but it’s like he’s miles away. His eyes are glassy with unshed tears. “I’m worried Wil won’t come back from this and Tommy...they exiled him, Techno. I don’t- I don’t know where they’ve taken him and I can’t even be there for him.”

He places his hands on Phil’s shoulders steadying him. “One thing at a time, Phil. We’ll find Tommy. I’ll start looking immediately, alright? You can watch over Wilbur while I’m gone. I can survive the trips and odds are he’d be somewhere out here.” Techno reassures Phil quickly. “Wil is...he’ll come back from this. He’s stubborn like that. Both your kids are.”

“I think it runs in the family,” he smiles half-heartedly. Techno can’t help but smile back.

“How long can you stay? You’re still helping L’manburg, right?” Phil’s face goes cold and he turns away. “Phil?”

“I...I don’t know anymore. I thought they were changing, but things seem to just be getting worse. They’ve already exiled Tommy. What’s next? They’ve put up wanted posters of you _everywhere_ and the rumors I’ve been hearing aren’t very pleasant. I don’t want to give up hope because they’re just _kids_ but…” He trails off.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. This is your home as well, Phil.”

“...thank you, Techno.” Techno goes stiff when Phil hugs him. Hesitantly, Techno brings his arms up and hugs Phil back. Phil blinks, clearly taken by surprise, breaking out into a warm smile. Techno ducks his head to press his face against Phil’s shoulder and make it easier on him. A hand combs through his tangled hair, Phil’s wings wrapping around him. He blames his exhaustion when his eyes beginning stinging with tears. 

“It’s gonna be alright, mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 9 techno: haha everything is going ok everything is fine-  
> chapter 10, bursting in through the wall like the kool-aid man: HAHA BET
> 
> so time is different in my fic than in canon/the streams cause i really doubt things "realistically" could've happened in the span of a few weeks  
> roughly its about late december/early january in the fic
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	11. Friends Till The End

“I’ll be back in a minute. Stay here. Do _not_ move.”

Wilbur remembers Techno’s simple instructions. A blanket was drawn up around his shoulders. He still feels cold. Techno’s mouth but words never reach him. Wilbur sluggishly blinks, swaying. When Techno doesn’t leave, he nods to show he understood. The warm hands slip off his shoulders. In his haze, Wilbur hears the trapdoor get shut.

He was alone.

His heartbeat seemed to echo in the room. With each beat, the ringing follows.

_(“How do you like this bed?” Wilbur watches Friend sniff the blankets curiously. He nudges his hoof against the cushion. “It’s supposed to be for dogs, but the villagers said it can work for sheep a well.” Friend cautiously climbs into the bed, doing a slow circle before settling down as a cat would. Wilbur broke out into a wide smile.)_

His hands tremble on his lap. He picked at the skin around his nails until they began bleeding.

_(“Techno, watch,” Wilbur bends over and holds his hand out. Cradled on the palm of his hand is blue. A couple of minutes passed until Friend came nosing their way out of the cottage. Wilbur watches Friend navigate their way over to him and nudge his hand. “I think they’re attracted to the blue! Maybe that’s how they found me in the first place.”)_

He was so cold. He tugs the blanket around himself more. His teeth begin clattering.

_(“Friend, please, we need to get inside!” The zombies were emerging from the thicket. Friend, however, kept struggling against Wilbur’s hold. It was Wilbur’s idea to go out and watch the sunset. He reached for the axe strapped to his hip. Techno gave it to him for emergencies. “Please!” He watches in horror as Friend rips free. They made a mad dash towards the zombies. “FRIEND!”)_

Wilbur presses his forehead on the mirror. The glass was so warm compared to him. He stares deep into his eyes, the abnormally glowing blue eyes now dull. His hands are covered in blood. Realistically, Wilbur knows the blood had already been scrubbed away, but the image was engraved into his brain. Why was he even here? He killed Friend- what was stopping him from killing anyone else? He couldn’t even follow Techno’s instructions. He was better off dead.

The world went dark.

He was falling.

Complete pain engulfed Wilbur’s entire body. He tried to scream, but nothing came out. He begins to choke on nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut as to distract himself from the full-body ache to no avail. A few heartbeats passed, but to Wilbur, it felt like hours.

And as suddenly as it came, it all seemed to stop.

Wilbur pried his eyes open and blinked himself into reality. His head felt fuzzy, and his vision was taking a while to settle. Nausea crept from his head to his stomach as he tried to take in a breath. The breath cut itself short in his throat. In front of him was a vast expanse of nothingness.

The man steadied himself as he took in his surroundings. The room in which he stood appeared to be infinitely expanding. He shook his head in fear, as if to attempt to convince himself this wasn’t real, but to no avail. In this odd room, Wilbur had on his yellow sweater and a pair of black pants rather than the clothes Techno gave him. Was this a dream?

“Who the fuck are you?” A familiar voice called from behind him.

Wilbur spun around. Standing a few feet away was a ram that stood no taller than his knee. He had a sour expression despite his cute appearance, and his top lip was curled back in a sneer. He wore a light blue turtleneck and black pants rather similar to Wilbur’s outfit. Behind the ram was a man sitting down. His hair was fluffy and brown, and he wore a dark trenchcoat that Wilbur hated the familiarity of. He hated _all_ of this.

He didn’t want to be around more people. He wanted to be dead.

“Um, I’m Wilbur?” Wilbur questions rather than states. He watches the ram raise his eyebrows in surprise. “Who are you?” At his question, the fluffy white ram barks out a laugh.

“Me? You don’t- that’s something you don’t see every day. Hey, hear that, loverboy? _You_ don’t remember me!” He nearly doubles over in laughter, clutching his gut. “I’m Schlatt.”

_(“Me and the boys are gonna be leaving this place soon,” Wilbur says leaning back on his hands. Schlatt beside him hums, brows knit together in concentration as he washed the dirt out of his pristine white fur. He’s in the natural form that he only showed around Wilbur. People never took him seriously like this, so he elected to pose as a normal hybrid in public. But Wilbur was an exception; he was his best friend. “I’m...I’m so tired, man. Don’t get me wrong! I enjoy hopping to random servers with you and facing the challenges the Sky Gods give us but…”_

_Schlatt bumps their shoulders together. He grins, their blue and yellow sweaters standing out amongst the field, having shifted into his human appearance. His facial hair had begun growing in which he was very proud of. “I get it, lover boy. You wanna spread your wings and all that cheesy shit. Next time you see me, I’m gonna be a high-class businessman, so don’t come begging me for money.” Wilbur doubles over in laughter. He rests a hand on Schlatt’s shoulder to steady himself.)_

“I...I remember you. We were friends. Best friends,” Wilbur whispers. When he looks up, Schaltt is avoiding his gaze. The ram kicks his hoof against the ground. He decides against pushing the subject. “What...what is this place?”

“Dunno. We’ve been trynna figure that out ourselves. Want my best guess?” Wilbur nods. “We’re dead. I’m not sure if this is hell or not, but it’s pretty shit if so. Kinda lame without all the eternal fire and torture. And I can’t assume we made it to heaven. Thanks for nothing god!”

“...was that a joke?”

“Yes.” Schlatt narrows his eyes. His gaze was scrutinizing, and it seemed to take in all of Wilbur at once. He uncomfortably shifts in place. “You...you aren’t Wilbur.”

“Of course I’m Wilbur! Who else could I be?”

“No, there’s...something off about you. You didn’t even remember me, and I strive to be unforgivable.” Schlatt muses, pacing around the room. Wilbur couldn’t take him seriously like this. His strides were so _little_.

“You mean unforgettable.”

“I said what I said.” He turns to face the other occupant. He still hasn’t moved. If Wilbur didn’t know any better, he’d assume he was dead. “Hey, lover boy, what do you think? Did you have an equally attractive twin I never knew about?”

“...he’s me,” a tired voice says. Wilbur froze. That was _his_ voice. “He needs to go back.”

“Go back where? What are you talking about? Who are you?” Wilbur steps forward. He wanted answers but all he got were more questions. “Why do you sound like me? What do you mean I’m _you?_ ”

“Jesus, you’re annoying,” Schlatt complains. He sits down and throws his head back. “Alright, time to fuck off. I’d rather take brooding Wil than whatever the hell you are. You seem like the type to hug people willingly.”

“How the fuck were we ever friends-” Wilbur is cut off before he can finish. An invisible force begins pushing him up into the air. He flails around like a fish out of water. His fingers briefly graze the floor. He’s lifted higher up into the air. “What the fuck?!”

He screams when he’s yanked back by his collar into the darkness. Schlatt and the man’s silhouettes quickly fall out of view. A harsh ringing bounces around his skull. Wilbur cups his hands over his ears.

“Please!” He screams. A few tears slip down his cheeks and fall slower than he was rising. The world around him spins. A suffocating weight settles onto his chest restricting his airflow. He began choking. He scratches at his neck trying to pull away the invisible hands. “I don’t want to be here anymore! I want to go home! Someone- please! Techno! Dad! _Please!_ ”

Wilbur wakes up screaming. 

He sits up quickly, a hand fisting into his shirt, coughing up blood.

“Wil- Wil, you’re safe, you’re safe,” hands frame his face brushing away the tears that flow freely from his eyes. Wilbur sobs, shakily grasping the hands to ground himself, bringing his knees to his chest. His vision is hazy and his head spins. His throat ached. “I need you to breathe, okay? Just like we’ve practiced. Breathe in for four, breathe out for four, okay? I’ll do it with you. Just copy me.”

Wilbur’s head is soon tucked under a chin with his ear pressed against a firm chest. He can hear their steady heartbeat. With each breath, their chest rises and falls, the rhythmic motion something he can latch onto. Wilbur forces his eyes to stay open as he copies them. He can’t go back to the dark. He _can’t._ “Good, you’re doing great mate. Keep it up.”

“It...dark so...so dark…” Wilbur sobs. He buries himself further into their chest. “Don’t...can’t...cold...”

“It’s okay, Wil. You’re safe, I’ve gotcha. You’re okay. Just keep that up, okay? In for four, out for four.”

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that. Eventually, Wilbur’s breathing evens out, blinking away the remaining tears. “So cold…” Immediately, a blanket is being tugged around him. He brushes away the blood off his chin. “...dad?”

“Yea- yea, I’m here. You okay?” Phil’s face comes into view as Wilbur lifts his head. His eyes are full of nothing but concern. Wilbur leans into the hand that lovingly pets through his hair. “Wil, are you okay?”

“I...I think so. Where...where’s Techno?”

“He’s...out right now. You’ve been asleep for weeks, Wil.” Weeks? He hadn’t been in the room that long. The attic seemed the same as well except his mirror was missing. What happened to his mirror? “What happened?”

“I...I saw two people...their…” What were their names? They were right on his tongue, but Wilbur couldn’t speak them into existence. He blinks a couple of times. “They looked like…” All he remembered were shadows. “I...don't remember."

“That's okay. You’re doing great, son.” Wilbur lets himself get tugged closer. He’s practically on Phil’s lap now, his long legs hanging over the edge of the bed, tucked against his father’s chest. His wings are wrapped around him protectively and Wilbur shakily runs his fingers through the silky feathers. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“Uh...I was watching the sunrise with Friend. It was a nice clear day and I thought we could get a good view. It...it’s a good memory. And then...then Techno was there and...I remember a mirror and then that was it.” Phil nods. Wilbur pushes the wings down. He looks around and frowns. “Phil, where’s Friend? Why is their bed empty?”

“Friend...he died, buddy.”

“...oh.” It...wasn’t as sad as he thought it’d be. How did they die? Were they cold? Was Wilbur with him? “Where’s Techno?”

“I told you, Wil, he’s out. Do you not remember?” Wilbur shakes his head. He begins zoning out as Phil continues talking. Was it always this cold up here? As Wilbur wraps the blanket around himself tighter, he sees a flash of blue pass by the window.

_Friend._

Wilbur untangles himself from Phil’s grip. He nearly collapses when he stands. Phil tries stopping him, but Wilbur quickly limps out of his reach. Climbing down the ladder would prove too difficult, so Wilbur heads for the window. He quickly undoes the latch and lifts the pane. Thunder roars in the distance, flashes of light piercing the dark sky. Rain came crashing down onto the world at extreme speeds bringing hail with it. Phil is shouting now. 

Wilbur climbs out the window without hesitation, hanging over the edge. He’s on the third floor. His feet slip against the wet concrete searching for a foothold. He didn’t have shoes on. This was a terrible idea, but when has he ever had good ideas? Friend needed him. He lets go before Phil could pull him back inside.

The stable creaks underneath his weight and a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. A sickening crack follows. He cries out, curling onto his side. The rain soaks his clothes in a matter of moments. His hands slip on the roof. Wilbur glances up spotting a blur of blue dart through the snowy field.

There was no stopping now. He had already gotten this far. Wilbur inches his way to the edge and hangs off. His legs dangle in the air, his bare feet inches above the snow. The drop was smaller than the one from his window, but the snow felt like rocks on his skin when he dropped.

“Wilbur!” Phil calls from the third floor. Wilbur pushes onto his elbows scrubbing snow out of his eyes. He hoists himself up using the fence. The atmosphere chilled him to his core, his entire body shaking and shivering in a matter of seconds. Wilbur began running.

Up ahead, he saw Friend. Wilbur didn’t remember Friend’s death, but he _felt_ it. He remembers his warm blood soaking his hands and the feeling of their body disappearing. And here they were in one piece as if it never happened.

_(“Why are you so attached to that sheep?” Techno asks. They were replanting the potatoes Techno had harvested. Wilbur gently nudges Friend away from the basket of greens they attempted eating from._

_“I dunno,” Wilbur says honestly. He relents and hands Friend some grass, letting him eating from the palm of his hand. “I just...I guess I miss taking care of someone.”)_

He was so close. Just a little further-

“Wilbur!” Phil’s voice carries over through the storm. Wilbur stops in his tracks. “Wilbur- stop it! You’re _melting_!”

What? Wilbur looks down.

Just as Phil said, his body was melting and bleeding away under the onslaught of rainfall. Already, the top of his head and shoulders, his sleeves, and bits of his forearms were missing, steaming ever so slightly when each drop of water touched him. “Wilbur!” He turns slightly at his name, but the top half of his head is misty and dissolved, the tops of his ears fuzzy. When Wilbur tries taking a step forward he collapses. His feet have completely melted into the rain and it was spreading to his ankles. The worst part was he didn’t feel _any_ of it.

Phil slides onto his knees and creates a cover over them both with his wings, tugging Wilbur close. “Wilbur,” he rasps, cupping the back of his son’s head with a desperate, trembling hand. Wilbur can’t turn his gaze away from his body. He watches in morbid fascination as it sizzles and melts off into the snow. “We need to get you inside _now_. I need to call Techno back and-”

“Dad…” Wilbur cuts him off weakly. Some of his chest and throat had been eroded by the wet wind. It was a miracle he was speaking at all. “Friend...let them...I wanna…” Phil nods. He lifts his wings up slightly making sure Wilbur was still completely covered. Friend crawls into the cocoon out of the rain. “Hey…” He whispers. He presses their foreheads together smiling. The adrenaline that had carried him this far was beginning to wear away. “Missed...you…”

Wilbur crumples forward, and Friend catches him before he can hit the snow. “Dad..?”

“Yea- yea, I’m here, mate.” Phil grips Wilbur’s hand. When he’s lifted into the air, the world begins teetering. He groans and presses a hand to his head.

“I...I think I broke my shoulder…”

Phil opens his mouth. Wilbur cracks a smile when he chuckles, letting Phil carry him back to the cottage, Friend trailing along behind them. “You did a lot more than that, Wil. After I patch you up, you’re grounded.”

“I deserve that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imagine trynna wilbur trynna hug schlatt but hes so small that wilbur accidentally ends up kicking him across the room  
> tbh i prolly couldve split this into 2 chapters but i got lazy lmao
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	12. Saline Solution

Wilbur’s legs were pulled up, his knees as close to his chest as possible. His hands gripped the white mug, resting the bottom of it between his legs to stabilize it. He slowly brought the cup to his lips, the warmth radiating from the cocoa burned his mouth. It was nostalgic, the sweetness causing him to smile. He’s careful not to let any of it spill. The hot, brown fluid traveled down his throat, and he could feel it warming his insides immediately. He wipes away the whipped cream caught on his upper lip with his sleeve.

Upon getting inside, Phil assessed Wilbur’s injuries. Thankfully he had only fractured his shoulder and with the help of a health potion it should heal in a couple of days. Wilbur watches a hole in his hand begin closing up, his body repairing what had melted off. His body was nearly back to normal other than a few lingering holes and chunks. It’s rather fascinating. He isn’t bleeding nor does he feel any pain. At certain angles, his skin even appeared transparent.

Friend is curled beside him. They were munching on some apples Phil cut up as a treat. He sways, blinking slowly into the fire, on the verge of dozing off. He startles awake as Phil settles down onto a cushion beside Wilbur. Wilbur doesn’t protest when Phil wraps a quilt around them both. 

_(“Dad, dad, tell us another story!” Wilbur begs. His small hands clutch at Phil’s haori, nose pink from the cold, bundled up in a swaddle of blankets.“C’mon, Techno! Convince him!”_

_“...what about the tale of Theseus?” Techno pipes up quietly. He’s curled up on a cushion. He always refrained from joining the cuddle sessions, carrying a faraway look in his eyes whenever Wilbur asked. He ducks his head and his pink hair curtains his face._

_“You are so laaaaaaaaaaaame,” he whines dramatically flopping onto Phil’s lap. Wilbur grins nonetheless when Phil begins telling the tale, fingers combing through his hair.)_

“That was reckless of you, Wil,” Phil blows on his cocoa. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.” Wilbur hums into his nearly empty mug. After a few long sips and a handful of slow breaths, he finds his voice.

“I...they were calling to me. I think the storm made them lost…” Friend blinks sleepily up at him when he brushes a hand over his head. The blue wool is soft under his calloused fingers. His hand flickers in terms of visibility. He frowns. Wilbur adjusts himself so Phil can’t see. “Why was I melting? That’s new.”

“It has something to do with the resurrection. You aren’t...it wasn’t finished. You’re like a living ghost, Wil. As time goes on, you’ll lose more and more of what makes you alive. I’ve been reading into more, but it’s a slow process. You...you really gave us a scare,” Phil sighs heavily despite his weak smile. Wilbur places his mug down between his feet, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his head on them. Slowly processing the new information.

“How long has it been?” Nothing seemed too different. There was an enderman named Edward occupying the living space now, but other than that everything is the same. The same cheesy paintings hung on the walls, the same dusty rug Techno kept procrastinating on cleaning is stretched underneath him, there are two dirty sets of dishes in the sink.

“Five weeks.”

“...oh.” He stares into the fireplace. No wonder he felt like shit. The logs crackle underneath the flames and split apart. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing to be sorry for, Wil.”

“Do you know why it happened?”

Silence descends.

There are tears in Phil’s eyes. He nods once. Wilbur drops his hand on Phil’s lap. Phil sways to the side, dropping his head on his son’s shoulder with a heavy sigh as a long arm wraps around him, rubbing circles into his shoulder blade. “I’m sorry. I...I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. I never should’ve let it get this bad. I…” He sips his cocoa to stop rambling.

“...I didn’t want to hurt anyone else,” Wilbur mumbles. He peels himself away and curls up into a ball, tucking his face against his knees. “I don’t...every time I sleep all I can dream about is all the things past-me did. All the people I hurt and killed and...they’re my memories but I’m not _him_ , so why must I suffer for it? For a moment, in that darkness, my head was just _empty_. No memories, no guilt, _nothing_. I was just _free_ and-”

Phil turns in place and wraps his arms around a surprised, wet-eyed Wilbur. A couple of stray tears slip down his cheeks. His bottom lip quivers.

“You were forced to grow up fast and took on the persona of a leader to cope with it all," Phil whispers. He wipes away Wilbur's tears. "You had to keep up the pretense of someone confident and strong. You forgot who you really are, under it all, and when you lost everything, no one was there to save you from yourself. You’re just finding yourself again.”

“I just...I just want to make sense of it all,” his voice shakes with a gentle, creaking ache. Phil hugs him tighter. “All the memories, all the secrets, all the things _Wilbur_ did that I didn’t. Because I’m him- I’m not Wilbur! I...”

“Do you remember the first time you saw an anteater?” Wilbur blinks, taken off guard. Phil doesn’t falter, watching Wilbur open and close his mouth a few times.

“I... _of course_ I remember that.”

“You were so _angry!_ I don’t think I ever saw you get that angry before. You kept asking me ‘why do they look so happy? They’re eating ants!’ I had to take you back home before you climbed into the pen and started a fight with the poor animals.” Phil giggles, getting lost in the nostalgia of it all, hugging Wilbur close.

“They’re dickheads!” Wilbur quickly chimes in. “They have no right to look so happy about eating _ants_ of all things!” He puffs his cheeks out indignantly at Phil’s cackling.

“There you are,” he brushes some stray curls out of Wilbur’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter what form you take, or who you are, you will always be my son. You might not be the Wilbur that everyone remembers, but you’re still that same little boy deep down,” Phil smiles gently. “You’re my son, and I’m your father. This won’t change no matter what. Even if you forget everything- if you forget _me_ \- I will still be right there by your side. So _live_ , Wil. If not for yourself, then for the ones around you.”

Wilbur chuckles. “We really make a pair, huh?”

“Oh, we certainly do. Here, hand me your mug. I’ll make us more hot cocoa. Techno said he won’t be returning anytime soon, so while he’s gone we can raid the pantry.”

“Where is he?” Wilbur hands his mug to Phil watching him head into the kitchen. He soon returns, handing him the mug back before settling down.

“I...I didn’t wanna tell you until you were stable, but you deserve to know,” Phil hesitates. At Wilbur’s unfaltering gaze, he relents. “Tommy was exiled from New L’manburg.”

The mug slips out of Wilbur’s grasp.

It clatters against the floor spilling hot cocoa everywhere, but Wilbur didn’t even realize. Phil curses. He quickly picks the mug up before it can break.

“He...exiled?” Friend stirs at Wilbur’s rising voice. They wiggle their way under the quilt until he is laying across Wilbur’s lap. He begins petting their coat, the repetitive motions helping keep his emotions in check. “But Tubbo is president, right? That- that’s his Tubbo! They’re best friends he can’t- he wouldn’t!” 

“I hadn’t gotten myself involved because I didn’t think Tubbo would, but I was proven wrong. No matter what I did, they wouldn’t tell me where he went. Ranboo told me he’s visited Tommy a couple of times but that’s the extent.”

“...I need to go to L’manburg.” Wilbur mumbles. He unsteadily gets to his feet and catches himself on the chair before he could fall. Phil quickly follows, gripping Wilbur’s arms.

“Wil, no. Showing up would just complicate things. Everyone thinks you’re dead, and if you return now in the state you’re in-”

“They exiled my brother! And I...I wasn’t there for him!”

_(“Tommy, I want you to be my right-hand man,” Wilbur looks up from his paperwork. He adjusted his glasses. Tommy blinks a few times, taken off guard. His arm was in a sling and there were cuts on his face still healing. Everyone has taken their own fair share of injuries, but Tommy’s were by far the worst. He lost two lives in the war and yet he refused to rest. “I know it’s a lot of responsibility, and I know you’re still just a kid, but you’ve really proven yourself today. If you don’t want-”_

_“Yes!” Tommy slams his hand on the desk. Wilbur’s head shoots up. Tommy is still just a teenager, yet no matter what the world threw at him he came out the other side grinning and laughing. “Fuck yea I wanna be your right-hand man! This is gonna be awesome, Wilbur! Holy shit, I gotta tell Tubbo. TUBBO! YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT WILBUR JUST SAID-” Wilbur watches him rush out of the tent and disappear into the field. Wilbur cups a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, a proud smile permanently stuck on his face.)_

Wilbur falls to his knees. He starts hyperventilating. Friend worriedly nudges his shoulder. “He’s...he’s my little brother! And I’m the one who made Tubbo president! I...this is all my fault!”

“Wil, you never could’ve predicted _any_ of this. Tubbo is under a tremendous amount of stress right now, and I’m not there for what goes on behind the scenes. I’m sure he’s alright. He’s probably complaining about having to do everything himself,” Phil reassures him, attempting for something light-hearted. He rests a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder keeping him from falling over. “Techno will find him, okay? Come on let's…”

Wilbur begins tuning out. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the situation. None of it made sense.

_Tommy. Exiled. Gone. Alone. Hurt? Tubbo. President. Traitor. L’manburg. It hurts. Why? Would Tubbo do this? I don’t know. Is this my fault? I don’t know. Why why why why why why why-_

“Wil.” 

Wilbur blinks back into reality. He’s in bed, the pillows propped up behind him. Phil must’ve helped him climb up the ladder. Friend is curled up in their respective bed, his favorite blanket wrapped around them. How long had he zoned out for? “You alright?” He looks up to meet Phil’s worried gaze.

“Yea,” he lies smoothly. He forces a smile. “I’m alright.”

Phil nods and turns to leave the attic. Wilbur waits until he is gone to gasp, tugging his arm out from under the blanket. The skin on his hand was beginning to lose saturation turning a light grey. He scrubs his hands together hoping that by creating warmth through friction it would return to normal as the melting had. It stays grey.

Whatever was happening was progressing fast.

“Shit…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh i cant think of anything funny so hi :)
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	13. The Tale of Theseus

Amidst a blizzard, Techno finds Tommy.

He was hacking down branches when Chat warned him someone was near. With his hand on his sword, Techno began searching for the potential mob. It wasn’t long until Techno found the teen curled up in the snow, his blond hair the only color in the blanket of white.

The skin of his face clung tightly to the skull beneath and his clothes- which were more like rags at this point- hung loosely off his bony body. He had no shoes. There were dirty bandages tied around both his forearms and hands with blood seeping through them. It is only when Techno touched his shoulder that he realized Tommy was completely _soaked_. Almost as if he had jumped into a river.

Without hesitation, Techno unclips his cape. Tommy barely stirs when Techno sits him up, tugging the fabric around his gaunt form, pulling the hood up over his head. He needed him as covered as possible to help his body temperature. Carrying an unconscious Tommy in his arms and Carl trailing along, Techno navigated his way to a cave. On Carl, they easily could have returned home in half a day, but Techno needed to treat Tommy’s apparent hypothermia immediately. 

He didn’t know whether to be glad or not for his experience with treating Wilbur.

**_warm need warmth much warmth_ **

_r̵a̴c̷c̸o̸o̷n̷i̴n̶n̷i̵t̸ ̶k̸e̸e̵p̴ ̸s̶a̷f̸e̵ ̶p̵r̶o̸t̸e̵c̶t̴ ̴b̴r̸o̷t̴h̵e̷r̴ ̵s̵a̴f̴e̸_

Techno changes Tommy out of his wet clothes and into an old Antarctic Empire uniform he had shoved away in his ender chest that no longer fit. He sits Tommy against a rock that keeps him shielded from the cave’s entrance and the wind. As an afterthought, Techno ties Tommy’s hands together with a lead that is connected to his wrist. He couldn’t lose another one of Phil’s kids _again._

When Techno unravels Tommy’s bandages, his heart plummets. His arms were littered with dark bruises, scars, and fresh cuts. “What happened to you out there?” Techno mutters under his breath. He pours a potion of regen over the worst of the cuts to help speed up the healing process then rebandages him. As a precaution, Techno checks for any more fatal injuries, finding traces of poorly healed broken bones and more bruising.

Tommy’s chest is faintly rising each breath fans out across his pale face. His body is tilted sideways with his neck exposed. Black tendril-like scars follow the path his veins lay along his neck fading out at his jawline. There were more scars on his arms and Techno remembers seeing some on his back. Wither scars.

_(“TOMMY!” Tubbo screams as he gets pulled into Tommy’s chest. The blond takes the brute of the wither blast. Techno watches the teen crumple onto the ground, Tubbo shaking his barely conscious form. He can’t tear his eyes away. Tommy was nearly completed withered, his body black with pieces breaking off and turning into ash upon connecting with the ground, choking on his blood. Despite his anger at being betrayed, Techno didn’t want to kill Tommy._

_Tubbo barely stirs as Techno slips past. Without looking back over his shoulder, Techno drops a splash potion of healing onto the two. He hears Tommy begin coughing and Tubbo’s relieved sobs. Unsheathing his sword, Techno rushes after the withers to stop the others from killing them, quickly entering the fray so no one knew what he did.)_

It takes a couple of tries with a flint ‘n’ steel until Techno gets a campfire going.

The heat from the campfire seemed to be sucked into the frigid air before ever reaching his frozen hands. He adds more wood and pokes it with a long stick to help the flames. It licks at the new logs and sent feeble sparks to die in the air. After a time, it grew until the heat began warming the cave, orange flames dancing across the rocky walls, lighting up the darkness. 

It would have to last through the night for any progress to be made on Tommy’s body temperature. 

Techno would have to stay up and nurse it the entire time. He sighs, dead-tired. He had been looking forward to returning home and sleeping the next few months away.

“Chat, ready for another sleepless night?” He cracks a smile at Chat’s whining protests and overdramatic complaints. He pulls out his communicator. Techno hadn’t checked it since he left. The screen flickers a couple of times and he can see warbled letters before it dies. “Great. I didn’t even know these things could break. Phil’s gonna have to fix it when we get back.”

Techno settles in for the night. He glances over towards Tommy. He hasn’t stirred once. His tail is limp on his lap and barely any color was returning to his skin.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

By the time morning came, Techno is on the verge of passing out.

He watches the light creep into the cave chasing away any lingering shadows. Tugging his scarf up, Techno steps outside the cave. Techno takes in a deep breath filling his lungs with fresh air, the world coming into focus around him. The clouds were still grey but without the denseness of yesterday, allowing patches of blue to show, and in the distance, he can see a rainbow forming. A heavy mist has settled over the forest and the snow reached past his ankles. A drizzle lingers pattering against the snow. The worst of the storm had passed.

There’s a light tug on the lead. 

Techno spins around. In his drained state, his hand instinctively falls to the hilt of his sword. His eyes meet two wide-eyed blue ones. Tommy was wide-awake and frozen up against the rock, the lead in his mouth.

“Tommy…” Techno sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He dramatically leans to the side when the teen begins screaming. If not for Phil, Techno would strangle the damn kid. “Tommy! Calm down!”

“What the _fuck_. You _motherfucker_ what the hell? Why did you tie me up? Why am I here?!” Tommy fires back. The fur on his tail puffs up. “What do you want?! Who sent-” he cuts himself off. For a moment, absolute _fear_ fills Tommy’s eyes.

**_someone hurt him we can see it_**

_r̸a̴c̷c̴o̷o̸n̷i̴n̷n̴i̶t̵ ̵b̸r̶o̷t̸h̶e̴r̶ ̴p̴r̸o̸t̶e̷c̷t̴ ̷t̴h̵e̸ ̷c̸h̵i̵l̵d̵ ̷_

“Tommy, listen,” Techno holds his hands up. Tommy tracks his movements warily. “Listen, I only did that as a precaution. I didn’t want you running away and getting yourself killed like you almost did last night, alright? The knot isn’t even that tight.” He watches Tommy examine the knot, applying the slightest of strength and watching it unravel.

“...oh.”

“Were you planning on _chewing_ your way out?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Techno rubs his ears which were sore from all of Tommy’s screaming. He crouches down beside the campfire, poking at the dying embers with a stick. “Which one. You kinda asked a lot, and I was only half listening.”

“Why am I here? What do you want?”

“I found you unconscious in the snow. If not for me, you would’ve died out there from hypothermia,” at that, Tommy falls silent. Techno sighs and dusts his hands off. “Listen, your dad sent me. He heard you got exiled and, well, you know how Phil is.” He rubs the back of his head. This wasn’t going well. Then again, everything with Tommy was complicated. “What were you even doing out here? You were _soaked._ ”

Tommy avoids Techno’s gaze. He’s gripping the wall to keep himself steady, ears flat against his head, chewing on his bottom lip. Something wasn’t right. Techno sighs. “Come on, my cottage isn’t far from here. You can ride on Carl.”

“Why the hell would I go with you?” Tommy watches Techno saddle Carl up for the trip. “You’re a fucking traitor. You betrayed all of us. How do I even know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” he says simply. “But there’s someone you might wanna see, and…” _I don’t know how much longer he’ll be around for._ “You can stay, or you can come with. It’s your choice.”

And that was that. Techno leads Carl into the forest checking his surroundings to get his bearings. The last thing they needed is to get lost. It wasn’t long until Tommy was stumbling out of the cave, shooting a quick glare at Techno before climbing onto the saddle.

“This means nothing. This is only because I wanna see Philza and get out of the cold. I don’t wanna stare at your stupid pig face any longer than I have to.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Techno drawls, smirking at Tommy’s offended sputters. He grabs Carl’s reigns and begins the long trek home. About five minutes in, Tommy begins making small talk.

“Sooooooo…” Tommy leans forward and crosses his arms on Carl’s head. The horse huffs through his nose but leaves him be. “You said there’s someone I might wanna see.”

“Yeeeeup.”

“Gonna tell me who they are?”

“Nooope.”

“You are so lame, Technoblade,” he pouts. After a moment of blissful silence, he sits up straight. “Hey, do you got any food?”

“Uh, just golden carrots and gapples. I ran out of steak a few nights ago-” Techno watches in horror as Tommy pulls out a golden apple from his bag. Before he can stop him, Tommy takes a huge bite. “Why?! That is a complete waste!”

“Wha- I need the absorption, man! You never know what can happen!” He says around a mouthful of apple. Techno’s eye twitches.

**_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE_ **

_r̴a̶c̷c̷o̴o̷n̸i̴n̵n̵i̵t̴ ̶t̷h̷i̵e̸f̶i̷n̷n̴i̴t̶!̷!̵!̶_

With Tommy’s incessant chatter and Chat’s annoying remarks, the trip surprisingly felt faster than it really was. By the time Techno saw the cottage’s smoke in the sky the sun was beginning to set.

“We’re almost there,” he calls back. Tommy sways slightly on the saddle, half-asleep, gripping onto the reigns tightly so he didn’t fall. Techno cuts down a few branches and guides Carl through. “I can’t wait to have a warm bath and clean clothes and to _sleep_.”

“Yeah, well, _I_ can’t wait to-” Tommy stops mid-sentence. His eyes are focused on the cottage up ahead, mouth agape. “Woah. You built all that? It's surprisingly cozy.”

“Why is everyone always so surprised?” Techno mutters to himself. He stretches his arms above his head listening to a few bones crack. “I’ll go ahead first. Let them know you’re here.” He helps Tommy off the saddle. “Just wait here.”

“Fine.” Tommy huffs, leaning against Carl. Techno hesitates. “I’m not gonna run off! Just go already.”

Techno heads towards the cottage. He follows the sound of laughter to the back of the house. His feet come to a stop. Wilbur is sitting on the ground beside a patch of dirt. Friend, alive and in one piece, is lying beside him eating a flower. Phil is kneeled across from him, wiping the sweat from his brow and smiling.

**_awake hes awake safe we did good we saved him_ **

_t̷o̴m̷m̸y̷ ̵g̷e̵t̷ ̵t̵o̷m̷m̵y̵ ̶f̸a̸m̸i̸l̵y̵ ̷m̴o̴m̶e̶n̴t̶!̴!̶_

“Oh, Technoblade, welcome back!” Wilbur chirps. His eyes are bright and his smile grows upon seeing Techno. There are pair of black gloves pulled over his hands and he's back in the yellow sweater. He's wearing a sunhat that catches the falling snow along the brim. Phil pushes his bucket hat up following his son’s gaze. Techno couldn't tear his eyes away from Wilbur. He's awake. He's _awake._ Without thinking, Techno takes a step forward, fully prepared to go and hug him. He stops himself before he can get too close. “Look! Phil told me that lilies of the valley can survive during the winter, so we’ve been planting a garden for the bees! Aren't they wonderful?” Happily, he holds up a flower that was being carefully cradled in his hands.

“I…” Techno can’t find his words. He glances over to Phil who gives him a knowing smile. His hands form into fists and he steps back. “That...that’s great, Wilbur. Uh, I brought someone with me.”

“Really?” He dusts his pants up and brushes a hand over Friend’s head. “Who is it-”

The snow crunches behind Techno.

He turns to find Tommy standing behind him. His eyes are wide, struggling to comprehend that the Wilbur in front of him is _alive_. Phil looks like he wants to rush over and hug Tommy. Instead, he steps over to stay by Techno’s side, watching the interaction.

“Wilbur..?” Tommy whispers. Wilbur looks just as star-struck if not more. He anxiously begins fiddling with the loose threads to his sweater. “I...how…”

“Should I..?” Techno whispers to Phil worried things might go south. Phil shook his head.

“Um, hello, Tommy.” Wilbur braces as if he's expecting anger. He avoids eye contact as much as possible, shifting his boots in the snow. “I, um. I didn’t know you were visiting. Phil said-”

“Shut up!” Tommy cries. He storms over and lightly punch Wilbur’s chest. His lower lip trembles, tears threatening to spill. “Just...shut up you stupid...stupid…”

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” quietly Wilbur pulls Tommy into a hug and Tommy goes with a strangled sob. He buries his face into the crook of Wilbur’s neck and they stand there like that for a while, Tommy trembling with the force of unvoiced cries, and Wilbur holding him “I’m so sorry, Toms…”

“Hey,” Techno says softly. Phil hums a noise of acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving the two brothers, a small smile on his face. “Shouldn’t you go and like...join them or something. Isn’t that like a family thing?”

“I don’t think I deserve that just yet,” Phil chuckles with a sad smile. He’s hugging himself, his eyes never leaving the two brothers. Techno glances over again seeing just how _happy_ they were back in each other’s arms again.

“...yeah.” He looks down at his feet. “I...I think I get that.”

_(“Ooh, older brother Technoblade, I'm so scared,” Tommy mocks. The teen is grinning like an idiot despite having been caught stealing his things. Techno raises an eyebrow, holding him up by the back of his shirt. “You’re like my cool older brother and I’m the waaay cooler younger brother. Wilbur is also my older brother. You two are kinda like twins now that I think about it. Which is kiiiiinda weird cause that would mean you'd be Phil's son and- do you by chance have wings?”_

_“We aren’t family,” Techno says. The words come out harsher than he intended because Tommy’s smile immediately falls. He glances past Tommy’s shoulder. Standing on the staircase is Wilbur. His hand is resting on a wooden pillar, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. The two make eye contact. “We’re just comrades fighting for the same cause.”)_

A hand on Techno’s shoulder startles him out of his thoughts

“Come on, let’s go make dinner. I’m sure Tommy is gonna start complaining about being hungry any minute now,” he can’t help rolling his eyes.

“He ate my _gapples_ , Phil, on the way over,” Techno complains. Phil just laughs, heading towards the front porch. 

With one last glance over his shoulder, Techno reluctantly follows after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first time writing tommy with a major role in a fic so im sorry if he might be ooc  
> canon? i dont know her :)
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	14. The Walls Are Empty

There is no sound in the house. They sit knee deep in silence. Water from the faucet drips into the sink, each drop reverberating around the room, yet no one blinks or moves to stop it. Outside the storm has found its vigor but the cries of the wind and the howling rain never reach the inside. By now night has long since fallen, the sky a blanket of darkness ridding the world of all light. 

Techno wishes the floor would swallow him altogether. 

To his left, Wilbur pushes his spoon around in the stew, not having touched his food once, his leg anxiously bouncing up and down. Phil sits at the head of the table the calmest out of them all, aware of the tension in the air but making no move to address it. Tommy looks like a bomb ready to explode at any moment; his jaw is clamped tight, his eyes set in a permanent glare, holding his spoon in a death grip.

“So,” Tommy finally cracks. Techno holds back the urge to groan. Of _course,_ they couldn’t have one dinner without something happening. He’s beginning to regret bringing Tommy here. “Finally decided to give a shit about me?”

“Tommy…” Phil sighs. He drags a hand over his face, knowing this conversation was coming. The moment Tommy saw Phil it was only a matter of time before this happened. “You know that isn’t the case.”

Tommy laughs humorlessly. “Oh, really? You have _never_ cared about us! All you’ve cared about is yourself!”

“Tommy, that isn’t true! I love both of you! You’re my son! And letting you two leave is my biggest regret.”

“Really? Cause you seemed pretty eager to stab Wilbur to death-”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Phil says sharply, a clear warning in his voice. His wings flare-up that cast an imposing shadow across the table. He stands and grips the table until his knuckles turn white. “He _begged_ me to kill him. And I remember every _millisecond_ of it. Every night and every day, I have to live knowing that I killed my boy. The same boy I taught how to walk, talk, and watched grow up. I know that I’m a poor father, but what kind of father would I be if I couldn’t even grant my son his final wish? I had no other choice, Tommy.”

“You had a choice. You chose to bring him back and just let us all mourn. And, of all fucking people, you turned to _Technoblade_. Were you ever gonna tell us? Tell _me_?”

Techno grits his teeth. Tommy has _no_ idea what they have gone through these past months. What _Phil_ has gone through.

_(“I really hope you’d wake up soon, Wil…” Techno pauses, having been about to open the trapdoor. He can hear shuffling from the attic and a tired sigh. “I...we’re really worried about you, mate. It’s going on...week three, I think? The days have kinda been blending together. That’s probably just me being old though.” He chuckles humorlessly. Techno could vividly picture Phil sitting by Wilbur’s bedside, holding his limp hand, eyes permanently rimmed with red from all his crying. “You gotta live...please I...I love you too much to let you go…”)_

He opens his mouth to interrupt when a hand grabs his. Wilbur is staring at the wall with a blank expression. But the hand holding onto Techno’s for dear life is shaking. He can’t even form enough strength to form a fist.

**_hes scared_ **

_p̶r̴o̸t̷e̸c̸t̷ ̴h̵o̷l̵d̸ ̸b̴r̸o̸t̵h̵e̵r̴ ̸k̸e̵e̶p̸ ̵s̷a̴f̴e̴ ̸t̶e̶c̷h̸n̷o̷p̶r̴o̷t̷e̷c̵t̷_

Techno squeezes his hand back. Wilbur sucks in a sharp breath, finally showing signs of life. He squints. Something blue is beginning to trickle out of Wilbur’s nose.

“No.” The lack of hesitance in Phil’s voice makes Tommy begin shouting obscenities. “If people find out he’s alive, it could mean trouble. For all of us. It has only been three months, Tommy. Tubbo exiled you for _griefing._ Can you even imagine what L’manburg would do to Wilbur for blowing up the nation?”

“That isn’t true! Wilbur...he...” He doesn’t sound confident.

“Not to mention, Wilbur isn’t in any state to return to L’manburg,” Wilbur blinks and scrubs at his face. He only ends up smearing the blue across his face. When he sees Techno staring, he attempts at a small smile.

 _“My blood turned blue recently,”_ he whispers, quiet enough not to catch the attention of Tommy or Phil. _“I think it’s kinda cool.”_

“He’s still recovering from the resurrection,” Phil explains patiently. Tommy glances over to Wilbur and his eyes soften. Wilbur gives a small wave. “He might not even survive the trip to and back in this state. I’ve done all this to _help._ ”

“Help,” Tommy snorts. The anger returns tenfold. The chair skids back clattering onto the ground. “Yeah, a really fucking fat lot of _help_ you did.” Wilbur flinches when he slams a fist on the table. The plates and glasses rattle from the vibrations. “Then where were was your help when my _best friend_ cast me out of the nation we built together? Where were you when I needed someone the most during my exile? Where was your help then, huh? Just admit it- you never gave a _shit_ about Wilbur or me!”

“That is not true-”

“Yes, it is! Wilbur knew it and I- _I_ was the one who tried convincing him it wasn’t the case. You never cared! I never left his side. Even when he was going crazy! Even…” He hesitates. “Where were you, _dad?_ You only sent fucking letters.”

“He wanted freedom and believed I was too overbearing. And he was right. I thought that being out of your lives would be best- for both of you. It...I know I can never make up for the past. I know I was a bad dad, but I’m trying to change that,” the sigh that came was a signal, not of his resolve leaving but of the level his tension had reached. “It’s selfish of me, I know, but I brought Wilbur back hoping that he could have a second chance at life. The moment I heard of your exile, I had Techno go looking for you. I would’ve gone myself but…”

“Stop,” Tommy hisses. The anger from his eyes showed the scared child within. “Just stop it. You’re a fucking traitor- you’ve been siding with Techno this _entire time_ after everything he’s done! And you just- you just keep LYING! Sometimes I wish you never fucking adopted me!”

“I never betrayed anyone,” Techno snaps. All that rage he had been holding in the past three months all came out rushing out than Nether magma but just as destructive. “ _You’re_ the ones who betrayed me!”

“YOU SUMMONED FUCKING WITHERS! You say I’m the one who betrayed you- you’re the one who betrayed us when Schlatt had you kill Tubbo!”

_(“T-Technoblade-” Tubbo presses himself as close as possible to the concrete wall. His ears were pinned flat against his head and he was shaking in visible fear. Schlatt’s hand on Techno’s shoulder is heavy, clutching so tightly it could bruise. For a moment, Techno spared a glance up towards the building his allies were hiding out on. Wilbur is crouched behind Tommy with a hand covering the blond’s mouth, his eyes focused on the scene below them. “P-Please don’t do this you don’t- you don’t have to-”_

_“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” and he means it. He truly is sorry even if the voices are demanding this poor kid’s blood. Techno loads the firework into his trusty crossbow and aims it at Tubbo’s chest. “I’ll make this as painless as possible.”)_

“You’re selfish!” Tommy continues mercilessly. “L’manburg did _nothing_ to you! All of these problems are just your own that you convinced yourself to be true! We- we were allies! Friends! And destroyed all of it!”

“I believe in freedom, Tommy!”

“You don’t believe in freedom- when you were peer pressured that’s not freedom that’s just you doing what the government tells you!”

“Do you remember when I had like thirty guys on me? When I had the fucking _president_ at my side telling me to kill a kid or else it would be my head? What did you and Wilbur do? Nothing! You just stood there and _watched._ Tubbo’s blood is on your hands as well. And you know what? I’m a changed man! I’ve sworn off violence! And if not for Phil and I, you would have literally _died_! And now you’re acting tough and angry-”

“I never asked for your fucking help you traitorous pig-”

“ALL OF YOU, STOP IT!” Wilbur screams. The room falls silent. The blue blood is pouring out of his nose, as is the gash in his chest. Blue is beginning to be soaked up by his sweater. There are tears streaming down his face that he doesn't bother wiping away. “Just...stop it...please…” His voice cracks.

“Wil…” Tommy quickly darts around the table to stand by his brother’s side. Techno stays rooted in place. He couldn’t form a single thought. Phil stays stock still in his seat, eyes wide, mouth agape. Tommy moves to grab Wilbur’s arm.

Wilbur jerks out of Tommy’s reach. He nearly trips over the chair, Friend quickly pressing themselves against the back of his legs to balance him out. Wilbur covers his ears with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please, if you must hate someone, hate me! I’m the one who fought with Phil! I’m the one you looked up to for guidance and ultimately led you astray! I’m the one who founded L’manburg and started the government! I'm the one who used Technoblade as a weapon! I’m the one who blew everything up! I was the villain in all your stories, and because of that, you all paid horribly.”

As much as Techno wanted to say otherwise, he knew Wilbur was right. It looked like Tommy and Phil came to the same conclusion.

“But...if I can have a second chance after everything I’ve done, then you all deserve one as well. So please…” His voice falls to little more than a whisper. He stumbles forward a couple of times before he fell, Tommy and Techno grabbing for his arms as he tumbled. “Oh, sorry. I just got really light-headed, then.”

“Well, you are bleeding all over the floor,” Techno mumbles. He wraps one around his shoulders while Tommy takes the other, both helping the man stand up straight.

“Seriously, big man, you should get that checked at,” Tommy eyes the blood dripping from his sweater. “Shouldn’t that had healed up by now?”

“It’s not real blood,” Phil explains. Techno awkwardly maneuvers towards the ladder, practically half-carrying Wilbur each rung. “At least, I don’t think so. It should disappear after a few minutes from the floor.” At both Techno and Tommy’s baffled stares, he quickly explains. “It’s happened a few times while you were out. You've missed a lot. Here, I’ll take him upstairs.”

Techno stays by the ladder until Phil and Wilbur have both disappeared in the attic, the trapdoor closing behind them. Only Techno and Tommy are left in the main room. Tommy stands by the dining table pointedly avoiding Techno’s gaze. He rubs the back of his neck.

**_this is awkward_ **

_f̴i̷g̵h̵t̶ ̵f̸i̵g̵h̸t̸ ̴f̵i̸g̴h̸t̴ ̶f̷i̸g̴h̵t̴ ̴f̶i̶g̶h̶t̸ ̸f̴i̸g̷h̶t̴_

“I’m not fighting him, Chat,” he mutters. Tommy’s ears flick and his head lifts. Shit, he forgot about how good his hearing is. “Not you.”

“Oh, right. You uh…” Tommy trails off. Techno vaguely remembers mentioning Chat in an off-hand comment to Tommy back in Pogtopia, but he hadn’t thought the kid cared enough to remember. “Look uh...I’m not sorry.”

“Off to a great start.”

“Fuck you. I’m not sorry because I’m never wrong about anything and I have no need to apologize, but…” he glances up towards the attic. “I’m willing to stay here a bit longer. For Wil. It’s not like I can go back to L’manburg or Logstedshire anyways…”

“As long as you don’t steal my stuff, we’ll be fine,” Techno crosses his arms. “C’mon, you can stay in my room for now. I’ll set up a bed for you in the morning.” He waves a hand for Tommy to follow. Techno doesn’t check to make sure Tommy is following. He just knows he is. He walks down the hall pushing open the door to his room. He walks past the chests, the armor on display stands he hoped never to wear again, and some weapons tucked away in the corner. He kicks aside a pair of discarded pants. “You can keep the uniform. It doesn’t fit anymore, and I was never a fan of it anyway. I'll need my cape back in the morning, but keep it for tonight. You need to stay warm.”

“I don’t want your fucking pity hand-me-downs,” Tommy grumbles. He stays by the doorway taking in the room in its entirety. Techno digs through a chest pulling out an extra pillow and blankets for himself. “...but thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Breakfast is at dawn followed by chores. If you miss breakfast then that’s on you.”

“Wait, what? No one said anything about chores!” He smirks to himself. The teen continues shouting even as Techno shuts the door. 

**_well that could have gone better_ **

_Y̴A̷Y̴ ̷F̸A̴M̶I̴L̶Y̶ ̵P̸O̷G̸_

“Am I making a mistake?” Some of the voices vehemently agree, insisting that he should either kill them or kick them out and let them fend for themselves, while the rest quickly reassure him he was making the right choice, insisting that they were good company. Techno settles down on the couch tucking his arms behind his head. Wilbur’s condition has only worsened. Any day now the man could just buckle over and die and that would be it. Phil would need to return to L’manburg soon and Techno wouldn’t be able to protect him. And then Tommy was an entirely new case full of issues.

He groans, pushing his thoughts away, and rolls over, facing the back of the couch. After a minute of quiet, he falls asleep, forcing away the worries lingering in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha nothing ever goes wrong during family dinners am i right guys? :)  
> also quick note! i was trying to show everyones side of the argument, neither of them are completely in the right or completely in the wrong and i kinda worried it might not come off that way so yeah!!! <3  
> 
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	15. The Kids Aren't Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw // suicide attempt

Wilbur wakes up to Friend jumping on his chest.

“Fuck!” Wilbur curses gasping for air. “You need to lay off the treats- you are _heavy_ ,” rubbing his tired eyes with the insides of his palms, Wilbur pushes up from the bed yawning. The lantern at his bedside is the only source of light in the attic. Ever since his trip to the void, Wilbur has been scared of the dark. He fears one day he’ll return and never come back.

Friend hops off his bed and impatiently pushes their hoof against the trapdoor. Raking his hands through his tossed and tangled curls, Wilbur tied his hair back to keep it out of his face. It didn’t look like he’d be falling asleep anytime soon. “You’re really freaking me out right now.”

Friend hops down into the living room. Wilbur frowns. The house is too quiet.

The fire has long since died down emitting a nice chill throughout the cottage. Phil is asleep in the armchair, an open book on his lap, wings draped around him like a blanket. Techno’s door down the hall is shut with no light shining from underneath. If Wilbur listens closely, he can hear the man sleep talking to his voices. The trapdoor to the basement and, in turn, Tommy’s room is shut.

It has been a week since Techno found Tommy in the snow, but to Wilbur, it feels as if no time has passed at all. Tommy had slotted so perfectly into this odd little family that Wilbur couldn’t remember what it was like not having him here at all.

Friend sprints across the deck nosing the front door. “Friend, quiet. You’re gonna wake up Phil!” Wilbur whispers. He carefully steps around the armchair crouching down beside Friend.

The front door is slightly cracked open.

No. No, Tommy wouldn’t have left in the middle of the night like this. Tommy might be emotional and reckless, but he wasn’t _stupid_ like many believed. He’s probably one of the smartest kids Wilbur has ever known other than Tubbo.

“Shouldn’t...Tommy be snoring..?” Tommy has always been a horrid snorer. Even they were younger, Wilbur tried every possible solution to solve the problem. He eventually gave up and learned how to sleep through the noise. But now the house is silent. One could hear a pin drop. “Maybe- maybe he just couldn’t sleep. Yeah, that must be it. I’ll just- I’ll go check on him. Just in case. Maybe he’d like some company.”

Wilbur climbs down to the basement.

He scans the room for Tommy. The cellar is empty other than Bob. Bob, Techno’s sole surviving cow, is nestled in the corner atop a bed of hay. Tommy had insisted on not moving the cow because he reminded him of Henry. He goes over to the bed, pulling at the blankets, and is only met with nothing. His bed is empty. Tommy isn't here.

Wilbur is up the ladder and out the front door in a matter of seconds.

_(Wilbur groans when light hits his face. He cracks an eye open when someone starts shaking him. Through his haze, he can see a pair of big blue eyes and a pouting face. “...Tommy? What time is it? What are you even doing-” he stops when the lights catch Tommy’s face. Tear tracks are running down the boy’s cheeks and his tail is puffed up in fear. Oh. “Alright, c’mere.” Wilbur scoots over so Tommy could climb into his bed, letting him cling to him. The boy shivers and clutches onto his shirt practically ripping it off him. “Wanna talk about it?”_

_“I...I’m not scared.” Tommy sniffs. Wilbur really hopes he doesn’t get snot on his shirt. This was a nice shirt._

_“Uhuh, of course not,” Wilbur yawns, nestling his chin on top of Tommy’s head. He can feel Tommy’s ears tickle his jaw as they twitch in annoyance._

_“I...we were in this weird cave and...and you kept yelling at me and-” Tommy tightens his grip on Wilbur’s shirt. “You wouldn’t stop yelling and then...you left me alone and…”_

_“It was just a dream, Tommy. You wanna know how I know that?” He nods mutely. “Cause I’m never gonna leave you. Even if I’m dead, my ghost is gonna haunt you just to piss you off,” which receives a snicker from Tommy. Wilbur smiles, rubbing comforting circles onto his brother’s back. “You aren’t gonna be able to shake me off that easily.”)_

There are footprints in the snow that haven’t been blown away by the wind. Wilbur follows them. Snow drifts lightly through the trees, and Wilbur brushes some off the top of his head. He’s already begun melting. Wrapping his arms around himself, he continues onward, catching a glimpse of something yellow moving in the corner of his eye.

“Tommy!” Wilbur shouts, nearly tripping in the process. He curses when the teen disappears from view. Pushing through the bushes and low-hanging branches, Wilbur chases after his brother. The forest eventually opens up into a clearing. A river winds through the forest completely frozen over. Wilbur watches Tommy step onto the ice. “Tommy! Tommy- get off the ice!”

Tommy doesn’t turn. He takes another step forward. Wilbur skids to a stop at the edge of the riverbank. His body stays rooted in place despite his brain urging him forward. If the ice broke underneath him he would most certainly melt away into nothing from the water. Tommy groans and grips his head. His blue eyes take in his surroundings. “What am I doing here..? Was- was I sleep-walking again?”

“Tommy, walk towards me slowly, okay?” At Wilbur’s voice, Tommy turns around. He looks so scared. He’s beginning to shiver, dressed only in short-sleeves, his socks and his pants up to his ankles already soaked. “I gotcha you, Toms. Just walk slowly.”

“W-Wil-”

“Don’t make any sudden movements and-”

Wilbur watches in horror as the ice underneath Tommy’s feet cracks.

Hee can’t hear anything over the sound of Tommy’s panicked cries as gravity pushes him down into the icy depths. He emerges from the water, thrashing and flailing in a way that couldn't be called swimming but wasn't quite drowning. Just sheer panic. Then his head went back under. He didn’t resurface again.

And Wilbur did the only thing he could think of in that moment.

He jumped.

He dives headfirst into the water where his brother went under and reached until his hands found something solid. Something warm in contrast to the icy hell around them. Wilbur grabbed hold and pulled and tried not to think about how cold the water was, how the current pulled at them, how limp Tommy's body felt cradled to his chest.

For a second, they breached the surface before being tugged back down. The current tried to rip Tommy from Wilbur's grasp. He kicked harder and held the teen tighter. His eyes sting under the water. Yellow and brown begins to mix around him forming a dirty haze. It would only be a matter of time until he melts into nothing and Tommy would drown. He opened his mouth to cry out in pain, water racing to fill his lungs and- and then a hand was grasping his.

“Phil! Phil, I got them!” Techno shouts. He digs his boots into the snow and pulls the two out of the river with all his strength. When Wilbur falls back onto the ground nearly half his body has melted away. His entire left leg was gone, a good chunk of his stomach is missing, and he can barely breathe. What hasn’t melted off is sizzling, parts of him breaking off in gloopy clumps as the seconds pass, forming a puddle in the snow.

Wilbur turned his attention to Tommy whose hands were digging into his shoulders. His bright blue eyes were wide and full of terror, looking right at him, but not really. His lips are almost blue and he’s hyperventilating. Wilbur buried one hand in Tommy’s hair and placed the other against his chest.

_Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump._

His heart was beating. He wasn’t dead. Wilbur chokes on a sob hugging the teen close to his chest.

“Wil, you’re gonna melt,” Techno says softly. Wilbur reluctantly peels himself away. “Here, drink this. It’s a fire resistance potion, but it’ll warm you up.” An orange potion is pushed into Wilbur’s hands. He couldn’t understand how Techno kept a level-head throughout all this. Then he remembers how _relieved_ Techno had been when he saw Wilbur awake, how he was clearly holding back the urge to break down and cry, constantly sticking by Wilbur’s side for the next two days. If Wilbur knows Techno then he is most likely bottling it all inside.

He uncorks the bottle and drinks as much as he could. Instantly, the potion takes effect, a fire being lit in the pits of his stomach.

"H-How..."

"Your sheep woke us up," he grumbles, voice laced with exhaustion, taking the empty bottle from Wilbur's shaking hands. He drapes his cape around him and pulls the hood up.

“I- I…” Tommy’s wavering voice caught Wilbur’s attention. The teen, shaking like a leaf with his fur damp, his eyes puffy and red from the water, has finally broken out of whatever trance had overtaken him. Phil cupped the boy’s face in his shaky hands. Tommy’s palm came up to rest against Phil’s hand and Wilbur’s heart shattered as his eyes welled up in tears. Phil let his head rest against Tommy’s forehead and a few tears of his own fall from his cheeks. Just like that, Tommy fell apart. His ears pressed flat against his head as a raw cry rips free from his throat. “I’m- sorry- sorry- I’m sorry I- I’m sorry!”

Wilbur sluggishly crawls the short distance until he can bury his face against the crook of Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy all but willingly crawls onto his brother’s lap, the two being cradled in Phil’s arms with his wings wrapped around them protectively. “It’s okay. I love you. I love you so much. We love you.” Wilbur whispers over and over again. The boy nodded weakly against his chest. "Please. Please, don’t leave us, Toms."

A hand rested gently atop Wilbur’s shoulder and he didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Techno. Techno’s other hand disappeared into Tommy’s curls, pushing the soaked locks out of his face. He stayed like that for a few moments before stepping away. He’s stopped from leaving by Tommy’s hand shooting out and grasping onto his sleeve. Their eyes meet. Something unspoken passes between them. With a sigh, Techno sits down with his back against Wilbur’s, not letting go of Tommy’s hand.

The reality of the events of the night sat uncomfortably in Wilbur’s heart. He could feel his mind attempt to erase the memories from existence, but it was impossible. His brother had tried to drown himself. His baby brother had tried to commit suicide. There is no forgetting that. Wilbur holds Tommy closer and buries his face in his shoulder. Breathing. Warm. _Alive_. He feels Tommy hold onto him tighter.

“It’s okay...we’ll be okay…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i mean...at least we got our group hug?
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	16. As The World Falls Down

By the time they made it back to the house, they were all exhausted.

A tea kettle whistled on the stovetop, filling the air with the calming aroma. The gentle crackle of the hearth helps set the ambiance, chairs pulled inward to the warmth it gave off, the curtains drawn.

Tommy is curled up beside the armchair, leaning on the cushion for a pillow, having passed out mere minutes ago. A towel is draped around his neck catching any lingering droplets that haven't dried. Other than some scratches and bruises, Tommy thankfully came back in one piece. Tonight was not the night for questions, and so Techno left the kid to his own devices, keeping a wary eye on him. He didn’t want to risk a repeat of tonight.

Wilbur is stretched out on the rug reading a book. He is still missing a leg and much of his melted off skin has yet to solidify, but he’s in a much better state than he had been earlier. Friend had nearly broken the door down by the time they returned. The sheep hasn’t left his side since. They’re currently wrapped behind him, their chin resting on his hip. A blue-stained rag is clutched in Wilbur’s hands.

Techno’s tiredness makes his limbs lock up. With every movement, it feels like his body is giving way to gravity. A dreamless sleep in a nice, warm bed sounds heavenly. But his mind won’t let him. The chaos of the night sends adrenaline pumping through his body. The water is cold, but there’s nothing he can do about that. With a sponge, Techno sets to work. He’s elbow-deep in the sink scrubbing at a plate when Phil leans against the counter.

“I didn’t know you cleaned when you’re stressed,” a cup of tea is held in his hands. His face is the same as when he takes a sip, relaxed, savoring the peculiar brown herb-brew he is so fond of. “It’s good. A step-up from killing things.”

“Still do that. Just…” whispers for blood, the craving heavy in his gut, fingers itching to reach out for his sword. He blinks away the red haze and focuses on the dishes. “I don't think leaving them alone is a good idea right now.” 

“They’re safe, Techno. We got there in time.”

“But what if we _didn’t_?” He snaps. He is so _tired_. Tired of babysitting. Tired of watching the people he cares about nearly die in front of him. “Tommy almost _drowned_ and Wilbur- the idiot just- I don’t- I just don’t get it! Why- why didn’t he wake us up first? Why did he jump in knowing he’d melt? There- it doesn’t make sense, Phil.”

Phil sets his cup aside. He rests a hand in Techno’s hair, gently scratching behind his ears. Techno hates how the familiar motion eases the tension from his shoulders. “Because they’re family. They do a lot of stupid things for each other.”

“I don’t…” Would his parents have done that for him?

**_orphan orphan orphan orphan_ **

_i̶t̶s̸ ̷o̴k̴a̵y̵ ̸w̵e̵'̵r̵e̸ ̸y̸o̷u̷r̸ ̷f̶a̵m̷i̸l̵y̵!̴_

“But...how can they still be family? After everything that's happened?” He settles on instead. Phil hums in thought.

“I think...people often mistake family with labels. Not all families are made of flesh and blood,” Phil glances over towards the brothers. Wilbur has his legs on Tommy's lap now on his back. “What makes a family are the experiences you go through together. At the end of the day, they’re all just words.”

“Words can still _hurt_.” He scoffs under his breath.

“And it’s hard to let people in when the scars are still healing, I know. But you’re not the only one healing.”

“...I know.”

“You once said for me, the world.” Phil smiles. His voice is reminiscent, and Techno can almost hear himself saying those words, showing Phil off the first night he left. Techno stays silent. The unspoken promises said as he pressed the friendship emerald into his hand- the same emerald that now hangs from Phil’s ear. He wonders why he hadn't done it sooner. “Don’t assume we won’t do the same in return. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t your brothers by blood. They still care about you.”

“Tommy will leave the moment he sees his chance to go back to L’manburg. Wil...once he gets his memories back, he won’t care anymore. And you’ll leave with them.”

And where does that leave him?

_(The light from the hundreds of candelabras that decorated the walls cast rich, golden shadows across the floor, almost like a soothing dream. People slowly danced around to a smooth, dreamy little tune that seemed to have no source. Women in long, floating dresses, silks, and masks draped across their faces, dancing with men in crushed tunics and long-nosed masks._

_“Look! We have given our lives, and look at how happy we are? The Blood God has answered all our wishes” a specter says. The crown is heavy in Techno’s red-stained hands. He’s so tired. He has been fighting the voices for so long. “Join us, my liege. Stay in the Antarctic Empire. You will never have to face loss ever again.”_

_The crowd breaks away and in the center of the ballroom Techno sees his parents. Beckoning him towards their open arms. And at that moment, Techno sees the truth behind the illusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a golden chair. Without even a second thought, he seized it and with all the strength he had, slammed it against the specter._

_There was a crack, a shatter of glass and then the fantasy was splintering before his eyes, fragments of glass flying everywhere. A shard rushes past his cheek and missing by a breath. Something jolted beneath Techno’s feet, and he felt himself falling through the glass, plunging into the cold oblivion. As he fell, surrounded by the broken fragments of glass, he could hear the crash and bang as furniture collapsed and broke against marble, the picture-perfect ballroom crumbling in on itself._

_And all the while, the eerie, high-pitch laughter of the voices echoed around him, never ceasing, never leaving him alone._

_He wakes up in the boat, drifting out to sea. Far off in the distance, Techno sees the silhouette of the empire he has spent years rebuilding, and with it the only people he has ever brought himself to care about. It was better this way. It was time he became his own person.)_

“I know you aren’t staying, Phil.” When Phil doesn’t respond, Techno continues. “I saw you packing your bags. Why leave? Both your sons are here- there is nothing in L’manburg for you.”

“I can’t, in good conscience, just leave those kids to fend for themselves. Tubbo and Ranboo- they need me. You...you haven’t seen how it is. Everyone wearing armor, not knowing who to trust, always watching their backs. If left alone, they’ll follow in Wilbur’s footsteps. I _refuse_ to let any more good people be corrupted.”

“They’re the _government._ They have bounties on my head. They exiled your _son._ ”

“Yes, I know,” Phil concedes with a clipped sigh. “You were once a monarch too, you know. _I_ was once apart of the government. People change. And I know...I _know_ things are hard right now, but you need to trust me on this.”

Techno turns, fully turns, to look at Phil. His mind is set. There is no changing his decision. That’s what Phil and Wilbur had in common; they were both stubborn fucks.

“Fine, but I’m not breaking the news. I already gotta deal with both of them while you’re gone. Do you know how many times I’ve caught Tommy eating my gapples as a _snack?_ The other day I caught Wilbur trying to eat _sand._ I don’t even know where he got it from.” Phil stifles his laughter in his sleeve.

“That’s an old habit of his. It took me forever to make him stop as a kid. Good luck with that.”

“Do you have an alibi as to why you’ve been gone for so long?” Techno asks to steer the topic away. He’ll leave it to his future self to handle. Phil hums, leaning back on the counter and sipping his tea.

“I was nether star hunting. You know just how rare that it is to obtain, especially in an easy server like this, but I have my ways. Before I go, Wilbur is going to make two compasses for Tommy and Tubbo. Kinda like our friendship emeralds except they point towards each other. I wasn’t sure about it, but he knows them much better than I do.” He glances at Tommy. The boy hasn’t stirred much in his sleep. They still didn’t know much as to _why_ he tried to drown himself, but the actions spoke for themselves. “Maybe it’ll help always knowing where he is.”

“Speaking of compasses, you have the one I gave you right?”

“Yup. It’s in one of my chests back at my house.” At Techno’s glare, Phil holds his hands up. “I have the route memorized! Mate, no offense, but I can handle myself.”

“You never know, Phil. What happens if you get jumped? Or if you’re surrounded by baby zombies? Or if you’re drowning? Your wings…” He glances towards the cape. Subtly, Phil shifts under his perceptive gaze. “I know you can handle yourself in a fight, but just remember that if you ever need me, use that compass. Something might happen here and we have to move house and I lose my communicator.”

“I doubt anything will happen all the way out here. The worst is the blizzard, but that’ll pass in a few days.”

_“Phil.”_

_“Techno.”_ Phil mocks. He grins playfully, bumping their shoulders together. “It’s gonna be fiiiine, Techno. You worry too much.”

“And for good reason. After the things we’ve gone through…” Phil’s eyes soften.

“Sometimes, I forget that you’re not much older than the others,” he says and combs the knots out of Techno’s hair. He closes his eyes crossing his arms. “How are you holding up? Chat being nice?”

“They’re fine. Mostly complaining about how boring things have been. Of course, they want me to stab things, but we’ve come to somewhat of an understanding.”

_**blood we want blood** _

_d̸a̵d̷z̶a̷ ̷n̷o̸t̸i̷c̸e̶d̴ ̷u̵s̵!̸!̵!̷!̸_

“Good, good. If it ever gets too much, let me know. I’m always here for you.”

_(“Why did you help me?” Techno asks. He stares at the diamond sword he almost killed Phil with. Bile rises in his throat at the memory. “I could have killed you. I was going to kill you.”_

_“No, you weren’t,” Phil says firmly, not a hint of doubt in his words. Techno hates it. He hates how much Phil trusts him, how much he cares. “If anything, you would have hurt yourself. You'd never hurt me. I know I’m not your father and that I never will be, but I’ll always be here for you, Techno.”_

_Techno began crying before his mind caught up with his actions. He sobbed into his hands and the tears dripped between his fingers. His breathing was ragged, gasping in the dense air, the strength leaving his legs. His knees dig into the cold, hard marble ground. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, Techno. I’m here. I’m here.”_

_A raw scream tears itself free, telling of the pain inside, all the emotions he had locked away for so long being unleashed into the world. And Phil never let go. He took it all in stride, whispering soft reassurances in Techno’s ear, holding the boy close.)_

“I know, Phil. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn i hate it when my cultist ancestors try to drive me insane
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	17. :)

Wilbur’s state worsened.

His entire left arm has permanently turned a light grey and there were times when it was transparent. Wilbur never took off his sweater or gloves. He could barely do his daily chores without keeling over, black spots entering his vision, lungs collapsing in on themselves. Once, Wilbur fainted, and thankfully Friend had been there to wake him up before he lingered in the void too long. His leg never properly healed and he sported a permanent limp. It seems jumping into a frozen river did nothing for his weakened body.

But Wilbur kept smiling. He had to.

Ever since nearly drowning, Tommy changed. Neither of them dared to leave Tommy alone for more than a few minutes even while the kid slept. Tommy had always been loud. Annoyingly so. Until now. The first day, Tommy had stopped talking entirely. He would only communicate through gestures and glares. He, thankfully, began talking again over the course of the week but it was never the same. Wilbur saw how his eyes always darted about the room when asking a question or how he’d flinch if Wilbur or Techno raised their voice. He began hiding food under his bed, and he began asking for permission to do things.

And if things couldn't get worse, Techno began staying in his room more. He rarely emerged anymore. Sometimes Wilbur would find dirty dishes in the sink or new logs in the fireplace, but that was it. And then one day Wilbur caught him in the bathroom, gripping onto the basin tightly, his hair cut in a choppy bob with pink strands scattered around his feet. Blood dripping into the sink. Deep scratches running down his arms and face. Cuts from scissor blades zig-zagging across his neck.

“They want blood…” He whispers. Wilbur stays in the doorway. The pair of scissors in Techno’s hands kept him from entering. “I just...I wanna _stab_ something.”

Techno and Tommy were both suffering, and the only one who could help them was Wilbur.

Then, one afternoon, Tommy was by his side, looking the happiest he has in days, bundled up in the fur-lined blue cape Wilbur sewed for him.

“Do you want to go hunting?”

Wilbur didn’t hesitate to agree.

The two set off the same afternoon, bows in hand, matching fur capes flapping in the wind.

As they slowly made their way back into the cottage a few hours later, something crunched under Wilbur boot. That's odd. Tommy continued chattering on about how he caught more rabbits than Wilbur. When he saw Wilbur stop walking he, too, stopped.

"What is it?" Wilbur carefully digs through the snow uncovering the tiny object he stepped on and picks it up. His heart jolts in his chest at the sight of the empty potion bottle. He brought it up to his nose. It smelled of fermented spider eyes. “Wilbur-”

“Someone found us,” Wilbur whispers. He watches Tommy tense up, head whipping around.

“What? How? We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere-”

_Crunch_

Wilbur immediately reaches for his bow. The bushes nearby were being moved as if someone was haphazardly navigating through them. 

“Wilbur?”

Wilbur freezes just as he’s about to grab the arrow, and watches Dream, of all people, emerge from the thicket. Wilbur quickly stands up with a poison arrow in hand, nocking it on the bow and pulling it back, aiming towards Dream. He nudges Tommy with his elbow and the teen gets behind him without argument.

“Woah, woah, hold on-” Dream raises his hands up, palms out. As if he isn't the enemy. Tommy grips onto Wilbur’s arm tightly. There is a glisten of cold sweat on his forehead and his eyes are wide in fear.

“What are you doing here? How are you here? How did you find this place?” He asks one at a time, taking a step back with each question. Wilbur’s nose begins bleeding and he curses under his breath. The hunting trip had been pushing it, but now with the added stress, his body is beginning to rebel against him.

“I’ve been looking for Tommy.” Dream answers taking a careful step forward. Wilbur’s hand shakes around the bow but he raises it higher. He doesn’t have time to stop the bleeding. “I knew you were still alive, but I didn’t think you’d be all the way out here.”

“Why do you want Tommy?”

“He ran away. I need to take him back to exile. It’s a good place for him to stay. Where I can watch over him, you know? Make sure he doesn’t ruin any more things. You know how Tommy is. He's quick to anger and is the main reason for all the conflict on the server,” Dream leans so he can look past Wilbur right at Tommy. “Right, Tommy?”

“I…” Tommy stammers. He’s begun to shake. His pupils have completely dilated and his knuckles have turned white. “I…”

_(“I’M SORRY!” Tommy’s back slams against the wall and he falls to the ground. His arms fly up over his head in a defensive position. He’s panting, eyes glazed over. “I-I’m...I...I’m r-really- s-sorry Dream I- please I- sorry- I’m sorry-”_

_“TOMMY!” Wilbur drops to his knees beside him. The trapdoor lifts and Techno is quickly climbing down the ladder, sword in hand. Tommy flinches when Wilbur grasps his shoulders. “Tommy, Tommy- can you hear me? Tommy its me, Wilbur. It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s not here- it’s just Techno and me.”_

_“What...what happened?” Techno asks softly, putting his sword away when he sees no imminent threat. Wilbur gently wipes away Tommy’s tears and tugs the boy into his arms._

_“Count down from ten, just like we’ve practiced,” he whispers. Tommy shakily begins counting down from ten, clutching onto Wilbur’s sweater. “Good, good,” Wilbur looks up to Techno. “Nightmare. He...he mentioned Dream…”)_

A switch in Wilbur flipped.

“I’m not letting you take my brother fucking anywhere,” Wilbur snaps. He grits his teeth. If looks could kill, Dream would be dead three times over. Tommy stops shaking and lifts his head to stare at Wilbur in shock.

“W-Wil-”

“Stay behind me, Tommy.”

Dream sighs, adjusting the hood over his head, tutting softly. “Listen, Wilbur. You don’t really have a choice in the matter. How long do you think you can keep him safe? Your body is falling apart. You're weaker than a _bee._ ”

“What…” Tommy tugs on Wilbur’s cape. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

“So here’s what I’m gonna do,” the friendly facade drops. Wilbur feels Tommy tense up when Dream speaks, voice low and dangerous, making himself stand taller. “I’m going to kill you, and take Tommy with me. I’m doing you both a favor, really.”

“A favor…” Wilbur muses and lowers his bow. Immediately, Tommy grabs his arm, his panic growing tenfold.

“Wilbur- Wilbur, you can’t _actually_ be serious! You can’t- he just- Dream is-”

“If there is one thing I’ve learned from the war, it’s that I could never beat you in a fight.”

“It’s true.” Dream unhooks his axe from his belt, the enchantments shimmering along the blade. He remembers watching his friends be slaughtered by that very same weapon. Wilbur reaches behind himself and grabs Tommy’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

“So...there is only one option here,” Wilbur hums.

Before either Tommy or Dream can even get a word out, Wilbur turns and yanks his brother along as he breaks into a sprint.

Then he sprints.

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit-_

“What the fuck?!” Tommy screams as Wilbur tightens his grip, the teen struggling to keep up with him. When he realizes Dream is chasing them, Tommy runs faster. “Wilbur! He’s following! Use your fucking lanky legs and run faSTER!”

“I’m trying my hardest here!” Wilbur weaves through the trees best he can, keeping a tight grip on Tommy. The last thing either of them needs is for Tommy to fall. He knows that Dream is slowly but surely gaining on his heels.

He can’t run back to the house. The last thing he wants is for Dream to know where they live. It’s bad enough knowing Dream had gotten so close. Techno is at home. _Friend_ is at home. And Wilbur likes his home. He keeps running, his boots crunching against the snow, ignoring the snowflakes that begin hitting his face. Thankfully, Wilbur has always been an expert at running away from situations that have gone south.

“Wil- Wilbur- he’s catching up!” Wilbur ignores how the teen screams when he turns a sharp corner, trying to lose Dream in the trees. He curses when he almost slips on the snow. “Fucking hell, do _not_ die on me!”

“Tommy, I need you to scream as loud as you can!” He grins despite the situation. Despite everything, he feels so young. Racing through the trees, running from a scam gone wrong, eventually getting patched up by Schlatt or Tommy. Tommy makes a confused noise clinging to Wilbur's hand tighter.

“What?!”

“Scream! Be loud!" Another turn. "That’s what you’re good at, right?" Branches scratch at his face. "Just scream really _really_ loud!” A little further now. "DO IT!"

Tommy inhales deeply then follows it with a high shriek. A few birds go flying from their nests at the loud disturbance. As soon as Tommy does so, Wilbur skids down the side of a ditch, pushes Tommy behind him, and turns around. He scans the trees around him as he makes sure they are right where he wants to be. Far from the house, but close enough for a certain someone with freakishly good hearing to maybe hear Tommy.

“What the fuck are you doing?! He’s gonna catch up any minute now!” Tommy cries yanking on his arm. Wilbur grabs his bow and nocks an arrow, aiming at the treeline. They were trapped down here, but there was no way Dream could sneak behind them.

When he saw the first signs of green he lets go. The arrow narrowly misses, hitting the tree beside Dream’s head, the acid burning the bark.

“Oh, now you’re trying to kill me?” Dream says holding a chest to his chest. “I’m hurt, Wilbur. I thought we were friends,” Wilbur nocks another arrow. “And Tommy, you trust him? Don’t you remember what he did to L’manburg? He destroyed the entire nation! Your _home!_ All of this is because of Wilbur!”

Wilbur’s grip on the bow tightens. He risks a quick glance at Tommy only to be met with Tommy’s conflicted expression, chewing the insides of his cheeks. “I remember,” Tommy mumbles, but he still stays close. He glances up meeting Wilbur's eyes. “And I forgive him.”

_(“Tommy, why are you still here?” Wilbur peeks through his fingers. Tommy stands in front of him with his brows knitted together in confusion. The poor kid was wearing rags for clothes, the two have been living on the streets for the past few months. Wilbur's latest business venture with Schlatt- literally- went up in flames. They were screwed. “I- I’m just a fuck up! All I’ve done is drag you into all my shit. Just- just go home, Tommy.”_

_“No!” Tommy drops to his knees in front of Wilbur. He blinks when two hands slap against his cheeks and squish his face. “We’ll get through this- I know we will! You’re Wilbur Soot! The best damn big brother ever. We’re gonna get so rich we’ll use diamond blocks for decorating.” He breaks out into a grin. Wilbur stares into his hopeful eyes, feeling his throat begin closing up._

_“Thanks, Tommy…”)_

For a moment, he lets his guard down. Dream charges forward, and Wilbur is too slow. He misses his arrow. He pushes Tommy aside so that he’s the one getting tackled by Dream. Wilbur’s eyes widen when the axe slams into the ground, cutting some of his hair. That was way too close. “Wilbur!”

“Get this through your thick fucking skull,” Wilbur knees Dream in the groin then pushes him off. He rolls to the side, quickly getting to his feet, grabbing Tommy’s hand tugging him close. They manage to get a few steps away before Wilbur keels over and begins coughing. Blue blood splatters onto the snow below him. His head is spinning. Black spots are beginning to creep into his vision. Wilbur grins through the pain and the blood, standing protectively in front of Tommy. 

_“The only way you’re getting Tommy is over my dead body!”_

Dream stands and lifts his head to meet Wilbur’s eye. The mask has been pushed high enough to show off his mouth which curls into a twisted grin.

“Then I’ll make sure not even your ghost returns,” Dream picks his axe up twirling it around in the air. Wilbur reaches into his back pocket pulling out a knife. It was the only close-range weapon he brought. Hopefully, he can buy Tommy enough time to get the hell out of here.

Dream runs towards them but doesn’t get far. A trident slams in between them sending vibrations through the ground. Dream is sent flying backward and Tommy catches Wilbur before he can hit the ground, grunting from the weight.

 _“Get the fuck away from them.”_ Wilbur watches Techno emerge from the trees, the trident flying back into his hand. He’s quick to stand in the way of Dream getting to either Wilbur or Tommy. Dream steps back and pauses at seeing Techno, looking outraged with a sword in one hand and a trident in the other. He has no armor on, but neither does Dream.

“Techno…” Dream drawls. He adjusts his mask, taking a step back. Techno tilts his head. “So this is where you disappeared to.”

“I suggest you leave now, Dream,” Techno says smoothly. He swings his sword around casually. “Unless you want a repeat of our last duel.”

Dream pauses. Wilbur may not be able to really see Dream from where he’s at, but he can tell from the silence after that he’s probably debating if he can take on Techno. “We’re going to talk over this later.” He eventually settles on and there’s the crunch of snow.

“Next time I see you, I’m gonna kill you,” he warns. Wilbur watches Dream go, running into the forest, his obnoxious hoodie disappearing from sight. Techno deflates, sighing heavily.

He turns around. 

“Okay, listen-” Wilbur starts. Before he can finish, he is pulled into a tight hug with Tommy squished to his side, the three falling to the ground.

“You guys are idiots,” Techno mumbles, a hand burying itself in Wilbur’s curls pulling him closer. Wilbur begins tearing up against his will. “...I should’ve punched him.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Wilbur mumbles sleepily. He lets Techno help him to his feet using him for support. And if Techno notices how Wilbur grabs his tail, gently fiddling with the tuft, he doesn’t mention it. Tommy lets go of Wilbur’s hand and grabs Techno’s instead. “But that was still pretty sick.”

“I didn’t even know tridents could do that!” Tommy quickly agrees. Techno rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I want a trident.”

“I am _not_ giving you a trident. You can get one yourself,” he begins brushing the snow and leaves out of Tommy’s hair. Wilbur watches them with a soft smile. Techno glances at Wilbur. “Wil, you good to walk back?”

“Yeah...yeah, I’m alright,” he wipes the blood from his nose and smiles shakily at the two. “I’m alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SUCK IT GREEN BOOOOOOOOOOY  
> also ik c!tommy is still upset at alivebur but we're just gonna ignore that canon does not exist...yet
> 
> [crawls] we are officially a lil past halfway through everything stays,,,,,,,how we feelin folks yall ready to Hurt?
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	18. The Big Bad Butchers

Today was supposed to be a good day.

The bees are doing good, buzzing about in the tiny garden Wilbur and Phil made, appreciating the chance to spread their wings outside the enclosure. The turtles Techno recently brought home are laying eggs, and Toby had spun in a circle when he saw Techno, pausing his daily head bashing. Collecting eggs and fighting off the chickens that attempted to nip at his clothes had taken a solid hour. It didn’t help with Tommy, self-proclaimed chicken whisperer, laughing at his suffering.

Wilbur is sitting on the couch when Techno steps inside tapping snow off his boots. He’s curled up in a throw blanket, sewing up a hole in Tommy’s cape. He looks up and smiles.

“Hi, Techno,” Wilbur greets cheerily. Techno grunts in response, shaking snow out of his hair. He undoes the small ponytail he used to keep the strands out of his eyes. “I’m almost done with Tommy’s cape,” he holds up the rich blue silk cape, a yellow patch covering the hole. He peeks around the cape. “I haven’t sewed in a long time, so I hope he’ll like it. Do you think he will? We didn’t have much fabric, so I had to use one of my old shirts.”

“I’m sure he will,” Techno rubs a hand over his face flopping onto the couch beside Wilbur. Wilbur hums, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on sewing. He doesn’t complain when the lanky man lays back on the couch, his back on the armrest, tossing his legs over Techno’s lap. He’s honestly too tired to care. “I’m thinking we find Bob another cow. I don’t want another farm ‘cause that’ll just be too much work, but it would be nice having another cow for milk. Bob’s getting older and grumpy.”

“Oh, that would be nice! I’m sure Tommy will enjoy having another cow down there as well-”

“Techno! Wilbur!” Tommy screams, cutting Wilbur off, opening and slamming the door behind him. The two are immediately on his feet. Techno tugs Tommy over by the arm checking the teen for injuries while Wilbur frets by his side.

“What is it? Are you okay? Is it Dream?” As far as he can tell, Tommy is physically unharmed. But the kid looks so shaken up that Techno doesn’t relax. Wilbur stands by Techno’s side wringing his hands. “What-”

“It’s-” he sucks in a sharp breath. “L’manburg is outside. Well, the government is. I was feeding the chickens and I saw them in the forest and- I-I saw..." Tommy hesitates. "Tubbo...he's...he's with them and I don’t think he saw me b-but-”

Techno quickly steps past Tommy to look out the window. There are four people outside all dressed in aprons and adorned in full netherite. He recognized Tubbo, Quackity, and Fundy, but the fourth person is new. He is much taller than the others standing in the back, the only one without a weapon. He is at least a few inches taller than Techno, the one side of his face black and the other white, shuffling uncomfortably in place.

**_this is bad very bad_ **

_r̵a̴n̴-̸b̶o̷w̸!̷ ̷b̴e̸s̵t̵ ̵b̷o̵y̷!̵ ̷w̸e̸ ̶l̷o̶v̵e̴ ̷h̶i̵m̴!̶ ̵b̶l̷o̴o̴d̸ ̵b̷l̷o̷o̵d̷ ̷t̵e̴c̶h̵n̵o̶p̴r̶o̶t̸e̴c̵t̵_

“Wilbur, Tommy, you two need to take the basement tunnel and get out of here.”

“What?!” Tommy sputters. Techno ignores him and heads downstairs throwing open his chests. He straps on the armor he had hidden away then shoves a sword into Tommy’s hands. “We’re not gonna let you face them alone! Tell him, Wil!”

“Are...are you sure about this?” Wilbur watches Techno rush about in worry. “We can help, Techno.”

“I don’t know what they want, but they clearly aren’t here for a talk. I doubt they know you two are here either. Whatever they have planned for me I can handle it-”

Techno is stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist. Wilbur is frowning slightly, his eyes flitting across Techno’s face. “Techno, I don’t want a repeat of the festival. Please...”

“...fine.” Wilbur breaks out into a smile “Tommy, there’s a spare set of armor upstairs in Phil’s room- keeps it for emergencies,” the boy is off without another word. “Wil, I still want you to take the tunnel and get as far away from here as you can.”

“Techno-”

“Phil trusted me to keep you safe, and I promised that I would,” he squeezes his eyes shut. “You aren’t in any state to fight, Wil. And I don’t know what they’ll do to you when they find out you’re alive. I...I just want you to be safe.”

When Techno opens his eyes, Wilbur smiles gently, understanding the words in between the lines. He squeezes Techno’s hand. “...okay. I’ll need a lead for Friend.”

“Yeah- yeah, that’s fine. Make sure to take some bread with you as well just in case,” he clears his throat. Techno grabs a few potions and hooks them onto his belt. A series of loud knocks sound outside the door renders them both silent. “Go.”

Wilbur nods. He finishes tying the lead to Friend’s collar and begins sprinting down the tunnel. Techno shuts the door behind him, locking it. He’d stall to give Wilbur as much time as possible.

**_TECHNOBLADE NEVER DIES_ **

_B̸L̸O̵O̸D̷ ̴F̷O̸R̴ ̵T̷H̵E̵ ̴B̴L̴O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̸O̸D̸ ̴B̵L̴O̸O̷D̸ ̸F̶O̶R̷ ̴T̴H̷E̷ ̶B̷L̵O̵O̴D̸ ̸G̴O̸D̷ ̶_

Techno grabs a totem of undying from his ender chest. It shines in his scarred hands, the emerald eyes carrying his reflection.

_(“If I die, I die,” Wilbur says grimly. The man doesn’t even have the decency to look at him. He just stares out into the distance, staring at the rebels who were leaving Techno’s armory. Tommy had an arm slung over Tubbo’s shoulder, the two laughing despite the tense situation. Quackity stands by Eret and Niki making large gestures and helping ease the mood._

_“Wil, you aren’t even going in armor. Take the totem.” Wilbur closes his eyes savoring the breeze. He looks so free here, surrounded by the trees and grass, flowers brushing against his boots. Nothing like the man in the caves plagued by the demons in his mind. “Stay away from the presidential podium tonight.”_

_“What-”_

_“And keep the totem. Give it to someone who deserves it. Who deserves to live,” he chuckles humorlessly. Techno watches him slowly open his eyes. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”)_

He climbs upstairs to find Tommy waiting for him. He is dressed in the spare netherite armor. It's too big for him, but it'll keep him protected. “Come on, Tommy,” Techno says, grabbing his skull mask. He turns it over in his hands. He had hoped to never wear this again. His thumb runs along the smooth bone, the empty eyeholes staring into his soul. With a deep sigh, Techno straps the mask over his face.

“Technoblade! Come out, we just want to talk!” Fundy shouts and Techno huffs. Tommy grabs his cape off the couch quickly slinging it over his shoulders.

“Uhh...I’m not here! You have the wrong address!” He shouts back. “Perfect, they’ll never suspect a thing,” he mutters. Despite the situation, Tommy grins.

“We can literally see you in the window, Technoblade! Get the fuck out here!”

“Well, there goes that plan,” he sighs. Before opening the door, Techno turns to Tommy once again. “Stay inside.”

“What- I’m going out with you,” Tommy whisper-shouts. "You gave me a sword and told me to put on armor. That sounds like getting ready for a fight to me."

“That’s for the worst-case scenario. You gotta protect yourself, okay? Did you really think I was gonna let you go out there with me?”

“There are literal _butchers_ here for you I’m not just gonna let you-”

“Yeah, keyword being for _me_ , not you. You’re lucky I’m even letting you stay here-”

“TECHNOBLADE!”

At Quackity’s angered shout, Techno swings open the door, walking outside onto the porch. It’s a good thing too because Quackity has his axe up as if he was about to chop the door down. He keeps his face passive at the sight. Tommy stays in the doorway, the shadows cast by his hood hiding his face from view. “What do you want?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.

“You need to pay for your past crimes, Technoblade,” Tubbo says. His horns have grown out more since the last time Techno saw him.

“You _exploded_ L’manburg,” Quackity pipes in, stepping past Tubbo. “With fucking withers. We aren't just gonna let you get away with that, man.”

“Hey, look, that was all in the past! I’m a changed man, alright? I’ve retired. I have done everything I can to move past my violent ways,” Techno glances at Tommy standing just out of sight. “I farm bees and bake bread. What about that is dangerous?”

“That doesn’t matter, Technoblade. You still need to pay. And we can either do this peacefully or…” Fundy and Tubbo begin moving, carefully cutting off his escape routes. 

“Guys, I don’t think this is a good idea…” The newcomer mutters, wringing his hands together. The poor kid is only dressed in a suit in the middle of the arctic. Techno is surprised he hasn’t frozen to death already. “I mean, look at him-”

“You weren’t there, Ranboo!” Quackity spins on him. Ranboo flinches back at his tone, his eyes widening, tail tucked between his legs. Techno tightens his grip on the handle This isn’t the same man who cracked jokes every chance he got and helped talk Wilbur out of blowing up the nation. This is a man willing to destroy and control other people to reach his goals. “So shut up and get your sword out. Techno, this is your last warning. Either drop your weapons, or I’m dragging you down here myself.”

“Do you really think the four of you can take me in a fight?” Techno snorts, going down a step. He smirks when Tubbo, Ranboo, and Fundy step back. Quackity holds his ground.

“Yeah, I fucking do-”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tommy steps out of the house. Before Techno can shove the kid back inside, Tommy pushes his hood back revealing himself to the group. He holds his chin up high. “Step away, Big Q.”

“Tommy..?” Ranboo smiles slightly. His ears perk up and he smiles wider when Tommy nods at him.

“What…” Fundy blinks a few times. Quackity looks just as perplexed. “How...why…”

“...Tommy?” Tubbo’s shaky voice leaves them all in silence. Tommy’s eyes dart over. The two make eye contact. Tubbo’s eyes begin welling up with tears. “You...you’re alive...how- and- you’re with _Technoblade_?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says weakly. He clears his throat and stands straighter. “Yeah, I am. You exiled me. And- and you didn’t come to visit me once during my exile. ”

“Yes, I did! But then- then I saw the tower and I- I thought you were _dead!_ ” Tubbo shouts, stumbling forward. Techno points his axe at the boy before he could come any closer. “But you- you’ve been here! This entire time?!”

“I’ve been here for a bit, and you know what? It’s…” he makes eye contact with Techno. A slight smile makes its way onto Tommy’s face. “It’s been good.”

“What the fuck…” Techno almost wants to laugh at the look on Fundy’s face. Quackity on the other hand looks like he’s about to explode at any minute.

“Tommy, you and Techno are going to come with us-”

“Nu-huh. No way that’s happening,” Techno drawls, walking down the stairs, the others backing up as Tommy trails right behind him. The two stand in the snow with their weapons in hand, matching blue capes fluttering in the wind.

“Guys, seriously. They- they aren’t doing anything out here,” Ranboo pipes in once again. His eyes dart between Techno and Tommy to the butchers. “We can have peace in L’manburg if we just leave them alone. He said he’s in retirement and-”

“Fundy, now!” Quackity shouts. Fundy holds up the crossbow in his hands and fires. Techno swings his axe through the air, slicing it in half before it hits either of them. The arrow clatters onto the snow, harmless. Tommy draws his sword and nods to Techno. He throws a potion of strength onto the snow.

**_KILL THEM KILL THEM ALL MAKE THEM BLEED STAIN THE SNOW_ **

_B̸L̸O̵O̸D̷ ̴F̷O̸R̴ ̵T̷H̵E̵ ̴B̴L̴O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̸O̸D̸ ̴B̵L̴O̸O̷D̸ ̸F̶O̶R̷ ̴T̴H̷E̷ ̶B̷L̵O̵O̴D̸ ̸G̴O̸D̷ ̶B̸L̸O̵O̸D̷ ̴F̷O̸R̴ ̵T̷H̵E̵ ̴B̴L̴O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̸O̸D̸ ̴_

Without a word, Techno charges forward, Tommy on his heels. He swings for Fundy, the fox shrieking and fumbling to change weapons. Quackity jumps in the way, their axes meeting in the middle, a sharp ring rippling across the field. Techno growls. Quackity’s mask has been pushed aside showing his face, brows knitted together, teeth tightly clenched together.

“You are fucking _dead_ , Technoblade!”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to try,” Techno grins. He kicks Quackity's knee and easily dodges his swing, throwing another potion at his feet.

Tommy is fighting Tubbo off to the side, the two caught in a heated duel.

“I DID WHAT I HAD TO, TOMMY!” Tubbo yells defending himself from Tommy’s swipes. The two circle each other in the snow.

“YOU LEFT ME OUT THERE TO DIE, TUBBO!” Tommy shrieks back, changing tactics. He tries to swipe his legs out from under Tubbo. Tubbo jumps and shoves a hand against Tommy’s face making him stumble back. “I FUCKING LOVED YOU, MAN! AND YOU BETRAYED ME YOU- DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT HE DID TO ME?!”

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” his words make Tommy hesitates. Tubbo scrubs at his eyes trying to stop himself from crying. “But I- I did what I had to I- I’ve always cared-”

“STOP FUCKING LYING TO ME!” Tommy swings, angry tears spilling down his cheeks. Tubbo ducks under his swing and kicking the blond in the gut.

“I HAVE NEVER LIED TO YOU!”

Techno huffs when Fundy shoots another arrow. He gracefully ducks, sweeping Fundy’s legs out from under him. The fox hybrid manages to get a scream out before Techno is grabbing his ankle and tossing him across the field into Ranboo. He can’t help but laugh when the two collapse in a heap of tangled limbs. Eating a golden apple to heal the swings Quackity landed, Techno begins to head towards them to finish the job. Even with Ranboo staying out of the fight he wanted to make sure they never came after him again.

Quackity approaches from the side, the reins of a horse in his hands. Techno freezes.

“Give it up, Technoblade!” Quackity grins, holding his axe up to Carl’s throat, the implication clear. Carl thrashes about in his grip trying to break free.

“Hey! You leave Carl out of this! That horse is innocent!”

“Carl!” Tommy screams at the same time as Techno. He hesitates and, at that moment, his knees are kicked out from behind. He cries out in pain as Tubbo tears the sword from his hand and holds it to his throat instead.

“Stop this, Technoblade!” Tubbo’s voice wavers. The hand around the sword shakes. “Surrender now, and no one here gets hurt!”

 _“Don’t.”_ Techno growls, glancing between Tommy and Carl. “Put that sword down now.”

**_KILLTHETRAITORKILLTHEMALL_ **

_B̷̩̈L̷̘Ó̴̳Ọ̸͝Ḏ̶͆F̵̢̔Ŏ̴̲R̵̭T̶̢͐H̷͉͊E̸̮͒B̵͕̈Ḻ̵̛O̵̢Ǫ̴̌D̷͚͂G̸̣̊Õ̴̺D̵̽ͅB̶̤̐Ḷ̷͛O̵̺̕O̴̜͆D̷̙͂F̷̰̀O̶̦͝R̵̮T̵̡̚H̵̦̋E̵̹̕B̵̰L̷̲̾O̵̪͛O̷͎͝D̴̜͋Ḡ̵̹O̵͖͋D̷̞̈́ ̵̒͜_

“Your armor, weapons, on the ground- now!” Quackity orders grinning like a maniac.

“Tommy-” Techno grits out. He knows he can kill them all. It wouldn’t be hard. He could solve all their problems here and now. And Tommy knows this as well.

“Don’t-” Tommy hisses and Tubbo presses the sword more into Tommy’s neck. “Techno, Techno- don’t- owowow- Tubbo, Jesus-” Tommy quickly stammers out. "When the hell did you get so good at PVP?" Techno watches the slightest bit of blood trickle down his throat.

“Your weapons now, Technoblade!”

Techno doesn’t turn his eyes away from Tommy. He knows for a fact Tommy has knives on his person, but he isn't fighting back. Even after all this, he still won't let his best friend get killed. A few tears slip down Tommy’s cheeks when the sword presses closer.

“NOW, TECHNOBLADE!”

Techno drops his axe onto the snow.

He glares when Fundy holds a sword up to his throat. The fox at least has the decency to flinch. He quickly takes off his armor, throwing it to the ground as well.

Tubbo releases the sword from Tommy’s neck as soon as Techno is disarmed and without armor. “Come on, Tommy. Armor off as well.”

“Tubbo…” Tommy stares up at his best friend who avoids meeting his heartbroken gaze.

“Armor off, Tommy. You're with the enemy.” Slowly, Tommy begins to move. Soon enough his armor is piled onto the snow as well. “Ranboo, check them and make sure they aren’t hiding anything.”

Techno warily watches Ranboo step up to Tommy first, patting down the teen’s sides, muttering apologies. He tugs out a few knives Tommy managed to hide. While Techno had gotten rid of his weapons and armor as ordered, the totem of undying is still tucked inside his pants. Once done with Tommy, Ranboo hesitantly steps over to Techno.

“Please don’t bite my hands off,” Ranboo pleads quietly. Techno grins showing off his canines.

“No promises.” The teen whimpers and sets to work. Techno watches Ranboo check his legs for any hidden weapons, slowly nearing the totem. This is bad. Every scenario Techno thought of ended with either him, Tommy, or Carl getting killed. He _knows_ he needs to come with something. Chat isn’t any help- stuck in a broken loop of crying out for blood and death. He’s on his own.

“He’s got nothing!” Ranboo eventually says. Techno blinks. He _had_ to have felt the totem. Techno even saw Ranboo pause when checking his pockets. The two make eye contact. Ranboo fidgets in place for a moment, diverting his eyes away. “I...I’m sorry I can’t do more…” He whispers then backs up when Quackity grabs Techno’s arm.

“Let’s get moving! We can get back before dark if we keep up the pace!” Quackity yanks hard on Techno’s arm to get him moving. Tommy hangs his head wordlessly following Tubbo. The two let themselves be led away from the cottage, their armor, and weapons left behind, the sun shining overhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooohhhh you guys have no idea how excited ive been to write the execution arc
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	19. The End of The Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when reading this chapter, i want yall to blast rasputin by boney m. in the background  
> trust me.

They reach L’manburg mid-afternoon, the sun beginning to set behind the mountains, streaks of red and orange painting the sky.

Techno follows the Butchers to the front of a stage, several seats scattered behind him like a show is about to start. Tommy walks behind him with a crossbow to his head.

It’s too familiar for comfort. 

All that's missing is a concrete cage and a firework. Techno raises his head, following the small bit of redstone he can see up a wooden tower built beside the podium, an iron cage awaiting him on the stage. He winces when Chat voices their outrage.

**_WE ARE NOT ANIMALS THEY SAID TRIAL THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE_ **

_L̴I̶A̴R̸'̷M̵A̶N̷B̸U̸R̵G̵ ̵M̶O̸R̸E̵ ̵L̸I̷K̵E̴ ̶I̸T̷ ̶Y̶E̴A̷H̷_

“Techno, can you come up here, please?” Tubbo asks, having the nerve to be polite after dragging him from his home. “Tommy, if you don’t want to watch, Ranboo can take you to his house. Otherwise, you can just take a seat anywhere. This shouldn’t take long.”

Fundy holds a sword in his hands, nodding to Techno to go up the stairs. He looks about ready to attack at any given minute. Quackity helps, standing on the other side of Technoblde, casually holding a crossbow in his arms as if he's done this before. Techno hates every second of this. He has been through several executions in his time, but he thought he had put that life behind him.

It seems he was wrong.

“Techno!” At the sound of Phil’s voice, Techno looks up. The man is standing on his balcony, enchanted chains cuffed to his wrists, keeping him inside. “Techno, Tommy- get out of here!”

“Phil?” No- no, Phil was off-limits he- they didn’t _understand_. “Phil, what did they do to you?!”

“He’s been temporarily placed under house arrest for assisting a traitor,” Tubbo explains calmly. “Now, Technoblade, can you please get on the stage?”

Ranboo tugs on Tommy’s arm, trying to get him to stop before things could escalate. Tommy yanks his arm free. Nothing could extinguish the fire in his eyes. “What the fuck is this, Tubbo?” He lunges forward and grabs Techno by the hand before he can be led up the stairs. Techno steps back so he’s shielding Tommy from the Butchers. They could make a run for it. He just needs to find an opening. Maybe he can get the sword from Fundy, but then what? “You- you said we were having a trial!”

**_liar liar liar liar liar liar_ **

_B̴O̵O̶O̵O̵O̸O̸ ̸G̴O̴V̸E̴R̷N̵M̶E̶N̷T̶ ̴Y̴U̶C̸K̶_

“Well…” Tubbo hesitates. He nervously adjusts his tie.

“There is no trial!” Quackity snaps. Fundy jumps to action holding his sword up to Techno’s throat. When the hell did he grow a backbone? Phil shouts his own protests from the balcony. Techno watches in horror as Phil tries to climb down only to get yanked back by the chains. “Now get up on that stage.”

“This is bullshit!” Tommy shouts, keeping a death-grip on Techno’s hand. “Tubbo-”

“I said get on the stage!” The sword tip presses against his skin. Techno narrows his eyes at Fundy. Before this could progress further, Techno punches Fundy across the face, the fox getting thrown to the ground with the force of it. He grabs the sword before it can drop. He swivels around, preparing on running to Carl, when Tommy’s hand is torn out of his grip.

“Fuck- put me down! Let go of me!” Tommy struggles in Ranboo’s grip as the taller boy pulls him away. He tightens his grip on the sword. But Techno doesn’t get the chance to try getting Tommy back. Quackity points his crossbow into the back of Techno’s head.

“Get on the stage, or I shoot Tommy,” Quackity whispers, only loud enough for Techno to hear. He glances over his shoulder. Tommy’s screaming and Ranboo’s pleads fade into static. All Techno can hear past the static filling his ears is Quackity. “Or do you think I won’t? I know he’s on his last life, and I don’t care. I’m more than happy to kill a traitor.”

“Alright, alright,” Techno drops the sword and holds his hands up. He walks up the stairs and is rudely kicked into the iron cage. The gate is slammed shut behind him. Ranboo has managed to wrangle Tommy back to the seats, both watching the scene play out in horror, their arguing forgotten. “Look…” He glances up to the anvil high over his head. From that height, it would kill him instantaneously. Things weren’t looking in his favor. “I can't help but feel that the uh...the whole trial thing is just a farce."

“It's true,” Tubbo admits. Quackity stands by his side. Fundy makes his way down the stairs to help Ranboo with Tommy who has started struggling even more now. “You’re not getting a trial. This is an-”

“That’s right baby! This is a goddamn execution!” Quackity grins and places his hands on his hips. If not for the cage between them, Techno would have slammed the duck hybrid’s face into the ground by now. The idea makes him smile.

“What the fuck, Tubbo?!” Tommy screams slamming a foot into Fundy’s shin. Fundy yelps falling off his chair while Ranboo gets an elbow to the nose.

“Tommy, stop it!”

“You just put Technoblade in a goddamn cage! You put Phil on fucking house arrest! We’re being held here against our will, and you sit me in this fucking chair like I’m gonna be perfectly fine with-”

“SHUT UP!” Tubbo yells, hands balled into fists at his sides. “This...this was my decision- for the good of New L’manburg, Technoblade will be executed for his crimes against this nation. For too long we have sat idly by as others threaten our home.”

“It was just a couple of withers…” Techno mutters under his breath. Tubbo glares at him. “I’m just saying. I’ve done plenty worse to other countries.”

“After Technoblade’s execution, we will be holding an execution for Philza and his crimes as well. Traitors...are not allowed in L’manburg.” His voice wavers at the end.

“You leave Phil out of this!” Techno shouts gripping onto the iron bars. He can see movement on Phil’s balcony. “He- don’t you dare-”

**_blood blood we want blood blood BLOOD_ **

_L̷E̴A̴V̷E̶ ̴D̴A̶D̶Z̶A̷ ̴A̵L̸O̵N̶E̴_

“And Tommyinnit will be placed on house arrest in L’manburg under my watch.” Tubbo quickly interrupts. "I have decided it will be out of everyone's best interests and-"

“What?!” Tommy yells. He pulls at his arms with all his strength, kicking his feet into the air and trying to break free, Ranboo and Fundy holding him back. “Why didn’t you just fucking do that from the first place, Tubbo? You-”

“Because you gave me no choice! Turning to Technoblade would have only made things worse! And you- there was no other way of getting those walls down! All I’ve wanted is peace!” Tubbo throws his hand out gesturing around him. “I am in charge of leading this nation, and I am doing my best here! But…” For a moment, Tubbo falters, his eyes softening, something scared and vulnerable taking over him. “But I didn’t...I’ve _never_ wanted you to die, Tommy! You're...S-so I have decided you’ll be staying here! This is an executive decision. There will be no discussion on the matter.”

"That's fine with me- ow!" Fundy yelps when Tommy bites his hand.

**_ESCAPEESCAPEESCAPEESCAPE_ **

_B̷̟́Ȃ̴̖D̷͉̃ ̶̟͘Ḃ̶̢A̵̛͍D̴̢̈ ̴̼N̵̞̽Ǒ̶̡T̴̺͝ ̷̜̉Ǵ̸͖O̶̗̽O̸̙͠D̸̨͆ ̴̲̏N̷͔̒O̸̦̓T̷̝́ ̸̢͋P̵͓̕O̴̱̊Ǵ̷͍G̵͕̉E̴̡R̶͍̀S̵̯̕_

With the president distracted, Technoblade grabs onto the top of the cage with his hands, bracing his feet against the bars. He’s about to try climbing out only to nearly get his fingers cut off with Quackity swinging an axe at him. The blade clangs against metal. Quackity steps close, holding his chin up high. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re gonna stay in there until that anvil drops.”

“This is necessary for the nation, Tommy-”

“DON’T KILL HIM!” Fundy pins his hands to his back and shoves Tommy onto the ground, a knee firmly planted on his back keeping him from standing, his other hand pressing his head into the wooden planks. Ranboo stands by the seats looking up at Tubbo with something akin to fear. “Don’t- he’s-”

“He _killed_ me!” Tubbo slams a hand to his chest. The firework burns along his face seem to stand out more now than before. Techno remembers when Tubbo woke up after respawning, writhing about on the makeshift bed and screaming in sheer pain, the sounds haunting him that entire week. “Or did you just forget that?! He destroyed _everything_ and you- you’d still side with him?”

“No- yes- I- he doesn’t deserve this! Neither of them do! Please, Tubbo!”

Techno grabs Quackity by the collar of his jacket and slams him into the bars. With Quackity disorientated, he tries to climb out again. Unfortunately, Quackity came to his senses too quickly and swung his axe, slicing Techno's hand. He falls back slapping his hand over the wound, blood gushing out. He’s definitely going to need stitches.

"Next time, that'll be your head." Quackity threatens, cradling his bloody nose in his hand.

"If you wanna get in this cage with me, then be my guest."

Tommy thrashes underneath Fundy, trying to bite at him again, tail furiously lashing about. “Techno!”

"Tubbo, just pull the lever!" Fundy shouts catching Tubbo's attention. "We're wasting too much time here!"

**_no no no no no no no_ **

_e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸e̷s̷c̷a̸p̸e̸_

“Tubbo- let’s talk-” Techno attempts. Tubbo grips the lever but doesn’t pull it. Their eyes meet. This isn’t another Schlatt hungry for power, nor is he another Wilbur blinded by his own obsession. This is just a scared kid who has too much responsibility on his plate and wants to do what he believes is right. He just wants to appease the people around him. Techno understands that too well. “Listen, let’s just talk this over. We’ll have a proper trial, okay? I won’t fight back and- and this isn’t necessary-”

“It’s too late, Technoblade!” Quackity cuts in. Phil has reappeared on the balcony, his screams falling on deaf ears, straining against the chains. “Pull the fucking lever, Tubbo!” Tubbo’s hand around the lever shakes. His eyes dart between Tommy who is past begging at this point and Techno who is once again trying to escape ignoring Quackity’s swings. “PULL IT!”

He pulls the lever.

Tubbo squeezes his eyes shut.

Over Tommy and Phil’s anguished screams, Techno can hear the activated redstone turn on the contraption that will end his life.

Just as the anvil connects with his head, Techno wraps his hand around the totem.

A loud crack echoes across the stage. Techno feels every bone in his body shatter and his blood seeps into the wooden planks below his knees when the anvil connects. All his senses disappear one by one. He drifts in the darkness, his head filling up with static noise. And for the first time in years, all Techno hears is silence.

Then a shimmering, bright green and gold consume him.

**_ʖ𝙹∷∷𝙹∴ᒷ↸ ꖎ╎⎓ᒷ ᓵ𝙹ᒲᒷᓭ ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ ᔑ !¡∷╎ᓵᒷ_ **

A diagonal line splits across his face. Green and gold lights burst out followed by a raw scream. Techno digs his nails into his skin feeling as if he is slowly being melted limb by limb. He screams as another flash of green and gold fill his vision. He can feel the shattered bones in his body begin pieced together, fresh blood pumping from his heart, his skin stitching back into place. It was like a puzzle being pieced together and each connection felt like extreme agony.

**_∷╎ᓭᒷ ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ, ⊣𝙹↸ 𝙹⎓ ʖꖎ𝙹𝙹↸_ **

Realistically, it’s over in a matter of seconds.

To Techno, it goes on for an eternity.

He stands shakily. A few bones crack into place and he swipes his tongue along his lower lip tasting his own blood. His pink hair turned a murky magenta from all the blood curtains across his eyes. A diagonal line splits across Techno’s face with hardened gold splicing the skin and muscles together. The line continues down his neck over the wounds that should have killed him.

Everything aches and burns and Techno tilts his head back. He opens his mouth watching a cloud of gold be exhaled into the air. It’s almost mesmerizing.

So this is what using a totem of undying feels like...

**_TECHNOBLADE NEVER DIES_ **

_B̵̫̒L̴̯͛Ọ̶͝O̷̤͌D̴̳̓ ̸̲͝F̶̮̉O̷͇̓R̸̺̀ ̸̙̈́T̴͎͆H̷͙͠Ë̸̢́ ̷͎͊G̵̥̔O̸̠D̸̩͐ ̸̥̈́B̵̗L̵̙͊Ö̴̭́O̵̰͊D̵̝̍ ̸̰̆F̸̨̄O̶̭̐R̷̞̈ ̶͖̽T̵͓̏Ḫ̵̕E̴̩ ̷̘͊G̶̡̍Ō̶̩D̵̬͗ ̴͉̎B̷̦͂L̴̗̾Ö̵͕O̸͈͌D̷̜̍ ̵̜̅F̵̱̂O̴̼͌R̵̡͝ ̷̯͛T̶͖̂H̵̎ͅÊ̵̼ ̴̼͘Ĝ̸̖O̶̒ͅD̸͕̕ ̶͙̂_

Everyone on stage watches Techno climb out of the cage. His bones crack and his body moves like a puppet without its strings. Those brought back by a totem of undying rarely come back in one piece, so Techno believes himself to be lucky all things considered. A pair of hands grab his shoulders.

“Techno! Techno, we- we gotta go!” Tommy is shouting. Techno sluggishly lifts his head. His vision is hazy. His right eye keeps twitching. The teen is panting, Techno’s blood now staining his hands, eyes darting across Techno’s face. “And- shit- where's Carl?”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Quackity yells when the smoke dies down. He rounds on Ranboo who had been knocked back by the explosion. “I THOUGHT YOU SAID HE HAD NOTHING-” before he can finish, Phil comes gliding in, kicking Tubbo so hard that he flies back and slams into Quackity, the two of them tumbling off the stage whilst screaming.

“DAD!” Tommy cries out, a relieved grin breaking out across his face. Techno grunts when his head is tightly hugged to Tommy’s chest. Oh, and that’s a headache.

“Sorry, curses of binding are a bitch to break,” Phil says. There are severe burn marks around his wrists from the cuffs. He stands protectively in front of Tommy and Techno, spawning in a sword. There are bruises on his face Techno hadn’t seen before. The thought of someone hurting Phil made his blood boil. Phil crouches down cupping Techno's face. “Techno, you okay?” His expression grows grim as he takes in his state. “You used a totem- Techno-”

Phil flinches violently, his right wing shuddering as an arrow goes into it. Techno catches Phil when another arrow is shot into his shoulder blade.

“Phil- shit!” Tommy falls back on his hands narrowly dodging an arrow.

Techno watches the blood trickle down Phil’s wings, staining the feathers a crimson black, drops hitting the stage. He pulls Phil close, guiding him behind the cage as a shield, Tommy close on his heels. They’re cornered. Defenseless. Techno’s eyes dart about the area trying to come up with an escape plan that doesn’t involve someone dying.

“What do we do?!” Tommy’s panicked cries aren't helping. Techno yanks the blond back by his collar when a bundle of TNT is thrown overhead. Phil is quick to wrap his wings around the three protecting them from the debris. Were they _seriously_ trying to blow up the only thing keeping them above the water- “Techno!”

“I’m thinking!”

“Think harder!”

“THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!”

A flaming arrow zooms past.

Techno watches it land on the ground beside Tubbo.

Fundy yelps as he falls backward, another flaming arrow nearly stabbing his tail. Quackity runs across the deck, arrows following in his footsteps, taking cover behind a seat. Techno follows the line of fire. Though their savior is silhouetted by the fading light and L’manburg’s lanterns, Techno knew who it was. Their eyes met across the destruction, and Techno’s shoulders lost their tension. 

Wilbur gave a quick, curt nod before returning to his assault. Thankfully, the Butchers are too distracted to figure out the archer’s identity. The last thing they needed was for Wilbur to be put on the hit list.

“Hey!” The three turn their heads, and Techno catches his axe mid-air as it’s tossed to him. It felt good having a weapon in his hands. Ranboo stands by the stage holding Carl’s reins, and Phil smiles.

“Hey, mate. You on our side?” Phil asks, voice hoarse, his injuries beginning to take their toll. Techno stands and cracks his neck. Ranboo quickly bobs his head up and down.

“Y-Yeah! So please do not kick me, Mr. Philza Minecraft. Sir.” Ranboo stammers, mismatched eyes darting between the three. Tommy scoops up a discarded sword grinning to himself. “I...I just wanna help.”

“Hmm,” Techno turns the axe around in his hands. In this sort of situation, he’d vastly prefer a sword, but a weapon is a weapon. “Ranboo, right? Get them to the docks. I’ll cover you guys from behind,” his ears flick and he spins around. Fundy freezes from where he is trying to climb onto the stage. With zero hesitation, Techno kicks Fundy down the stairs, listening to him shriek. “Go!”

He watches the three take off along with Carl.

**_KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL_ **

**_B̷̧͑Ĺ̸̺O̷̖͝Ó̸̗D̵͉̅ ̴̦͝F̸̥̚O̴͉̅Ŗ̶͐ ̵̙͑T̵̰̃H̸͂ͅÊ̶̞ ̵̢B̶͍̌L̸̩͝Ŏ̶͈Ő̶͈D̵̳͠ ̵̣͗G̸͈͗O̵̜͝D̵͔͂ ̷̲̌B̸̠̃L̴̹͐Ò̵͍O̷͎̊Ď̵͇ ̵͓͠F̴̮̋Ȍ̴̰R̸̤̅ ̷̙͐Ṱ̸͗Ĥ̶̳E̷͍̾ ̶̢̎B̷̝͑L̴̙͑Ỏ̵̹O̶͔̎D̶̛̰ ̷̢̛G̷͇̓Ȏ̴̘Ḓ̵̏ ̷̪̋Ḃ̸ͅL̴̫̉O̵̻͘Ō̸̺D̵̢͒ ̶̻͂F̸̫̿Ö̸̳́R̷͙̚ ̸̗͆Ṭ̷̕Ḧ̷̡É̷̺ ̶̈͜B̷̺̌L̷͉̽O̷͇Ȍ̷͓D̶͕̆ ̷̼̾G̴͔͂O̴̘̍D̴̬̆ ̶̮͝B̵͚̒L̷̬̍Ó̴̘O̵̙͒D̵̯͑ ̵͈͝F̶̳̌Ö̶̫́R̶̺̽ ̸͖̊T̴̜̉H̷͉̕E̶̡͊ ̵̹͊Ḇ̶̔L̶̮̆Ö̵͕́Ȯ̵ͅD̵̼͌ ̶̺̿G̵͎͌Ö̸̥D̴͇̈ ̸̘̿B̵̢̈́L̸͉̋Ŏ̴̤O̷͑ͅḎ̶̊ ̴̲̈́F̸͈̅Ő̵̡Ŗ̸̐ ̶̢̒T̴̝͊H̶͓̾Ę̵̒ ̶̲͝B̵̹̅L̸̳̆O̴̢͝Ò̷̝D̷̨͝ ̶͖̍G̷̨̋Ǒ̵̺D̵̠͊ ̷̟̆_ **

Techno jumps off the stage and ignores an arrow that cuts his cheek, charging straight at the crossbow wielder. He tears the crossbow out of Quackity’s hands and grips onto his jacket. Quackity pulls out a knife but he's too slow, his eyes filling up with fear.

“What was that about killing Tommy?”

With a smug grin, Techno slams him into the ground, facefirst. Techno doesn't have enough to finish him off.

**_BEHIND BEHIND BEHIND_ **

_B̶̙̈́L̶͕͛Ō̴̜O̵̥͠D̴͉̚ ̵͚̈́F̷͓͂O̸̥͝Ȓ̸̭ ̷̼͆T̴̨̂H̷̭E̴̲͛ ̴̨̇B̷͚̄L̸̹̏O̸̝͌O̴̮̍D̵̮͋ ̴͖͋G̵͚͌O̸̪̽D̸̜̈ ̷̹͊K̷͈̍I̷̜͂L̴̖͗L̵͉̄L̵̲̍L̵̗L̴͎̈́_

Techno spins.

Tubbo manages to block Techno’s swing before his head can be taken off his shoulders. He stumbles back only to trip over a broken wooden plank, falling onto the ground. The president stares up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Techno raises his axe above his head.

At that moment, he sees himself.

Techno hesitates.

**_TRAITOR KILL KILL KILL PRESIDENT NO MORE_ **

**_B̸̩͌L̷͈͆O̸̱̔Ò̴͓D̸̫͂ ̵̢͋B̶͕̃L̸͔̋O̸͒͜O̷̮̽D̷̨͑ ̷̗̈B̸̘͠L̷̩̈́Ō̵̻O̸̩͗D̶͍̕ ̷̣̐B̶̥̂Ļ̸́O̶̦͂O̸̙͐Ḍ̶̉ ̵̡͌B̷͈͠L̵̬̈́O̷̳O̶̲͊Ḍ̴̾ ̴̥̒B̸̖̎L̸̙̉Ơ̷̺O̸̢D̴͇̈́ ̶͓̒B̶͈̐L̶͈̄Ŏ̵̫O̵̽͜D̶̘́ ̵̠͠B̶̲̓L̶̜̕O̷͇͐O̶͚͠D̸̼͆ ̵̢̓B̵̩̕L̸̮͆O̶̢̕O̴͊ͅD̴̜ ̵̝̔B̵̨̍L̸̰͑Õ̴̳Ǫ̴͛D̵̟̓ ̴͔̄B̴͉̋L̸̰̈Ȍ̷͙O̸͙͝D̸͚͌ ̵̫̐B̶̙͗L̷̩̆Ŏ̷͖Ỏ̵̫Ḓ̴́ ̵̴̬͔̾̄B̴͉̋L̸̰̈Ȍ̷͙O̸͙͝D̸͚͌ ̵̫̐B̶̙͗L̷̩̆Ŏ̷͖Ỏ̵̫Ḓ̴́ ̵̴̬͔̾̄B̴͉̋L̸̰̈Ȍ̷͙O̸͙͝D̸͚͌ ̵̫̐B̶̙͗L̷̩̆Ŏ̷͖Ỏ̵̫Ḓ̴́ ̵̬̾_ **

Tubbo flinches when the axe slams into the ground beside him. “Wha…”

“I’m giving you one chance,” Techno grunts pulling the axe back. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Another bundle of TNT is blown behind him.

Deciding this was his cue to run, he jumped off the crumbling deck landing on solid ground, trying to ignore the battle raging on behind him. Once far enough, Techno pauses outside the entrance of a cave. He remembers sneaking through the labyrinth with Wilbur once. They were nearly impossible to navigate, but he could lose the Butchers faster this way. He bent over grasping his knees taking deep-ragged breaths. 

A hand on his shoulder has Techno spinning around, his axe swinging with him.

Their eyes met. The blade rests against Wilbur’s neck.

“You’re covered in gold,” Wilbur pants, having run the entire way over. He’s sweating, his hands gripping onto the bow turning his knuckles white, potions hooked onto his belt. His quiver is empty. Techno raises an eyebrow. “Right. Not the time. Uh, where are the others? I didn’t see them on the stage.”

“At the docks. I told you to run,” Techno wraps an arm around Wilbur’s shoulders. Wilbur walks alongside Techno as they descend into the cave.

“And I told you I wanted to help. I did fight in a war, you know. I’m not entirely defenseless. Turn right here,” the two continue in silence. Occasionally Wilbur will give a direction. His limping is prominent. His breathing grows shallow. It isn’t long until Wilbur nearly faints, Techno catching him before he can hit the ground, coughing up blood. “Shit...I’m fine- I’m fine. Just...just need a moment…”

Techno kneels meeting Wilbur’s half-lidded gaze. “Get on my back. I’ll carry you the rest of the way. It'll be faster this way.”

“I’m really fine…” He weakly protests but climbs onto Techno’s back. His arms wrap around his neck securely, Techno standing making sure he has a good grip. They continue onwards. “We- we’re almost at the Final Control Room. From there a few more turns and we’ll reach the sewers. If I remember correctly, the sewers will take us directly to the dock.”

They step into a room built entirely out of blackstone, chests lining the walls, a singular button resting on a podium in the middle. Techno vaguely remembers Tommy telling about Eret’s betrayal and losing his first life. To think they were dumb enough to enter such an enclosed space is beyond him. Then again, when Techno arrived Tommy and Wilbur were living off rotten flesh and cave water. “Wait.”

“What?” Techno follows Wilbur’s gaze and resists the urge to sigh in frustration.

Of _course,_ his day had to get harder.

Dream stands blocking the entrance to the sewers, fists held tightly as his sides, ash and dirt smeared across the side of his hoodie. He must have found out from the Butchers where they went.

“I can’t let you leave here alive, Technoblade. Neither can he,” Dream nods at Wilbur. Techno tightens his grip. He knew it would come to this sooner or later. “You two have developed into too much of a wild card. I can’t allow you to interfere with my plans any longer.”

_(Techno looks up from his bowl of stew. A teenager the same age as himself clad in green and wearing a mask stops at his table. He ignores the whispers of the fellow adventurers in the tavern and takes a seat. Techno frowns._

_“You must be Technoblade,” he says. Techno doesn’t bother acknowledging him, continuing to eat his mushroom stew. It isn’t his favorite meal, but it was all he could afford. Jobs have been slow the past few days. The masked stranger chuckles. “I’ve heard about you. And I think you can do so much more than petty mob hunting jobs. Your stories from the Antarctic Empire fail to pay you justice-”_

_“I don’t want to kill people.” Techno sharply cuts in. It has been nearly a year since he left the empire, and he wanted to keep his track record up. Killing mobs and doing meager jobs never satisfied the voices, but it kept the guilt away. He just wanted the people he killed to stop plaguing his dreams._

_“Oh, it’s a tournament, so they don’t stay dead!” The stranger laughs. “It’s all just a game. The deaths never stay permanent. I came to ask you wanna join my team. I’ve got four, but we need a fifth. And I think a guy of your talents would fit just right in.”_

_“...what’s your name?”_

_A bandaged hand is held out over the table to him. From Techno’s angle, he can see a sharp grin behind the mask._

_“You can just call me Dream.”)_

“Get out of our way, Dream,” Techno glares. He feels Wilbur’s breath hitch. Red particles shimmer around Techno’s hand as he summons his axe back into existence, struggling to carry both Wilbur and the weapon.

“On one condition,” Dream tilts his head, hands in his hoodie pockets. He may seem defenseless, but Techno knows better. He has seen Dream kill someone with just his bare hands and joke about it moments afterward. And with his newfound admin powers, it made it all so much harder. “You die, or Wilbur dies.”

“That...is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He snorts, hiding his internal turmoil.

“Is it, though? Look at all you’ve done, Technoblade. This is getting out of hand,” Dream takes a step forward. Techno takes a step back. “I know you both can’t take me on. Wilbur is a walking corpse, and you can only do so much with adrenaline. How long until it wears out?” They could possibly run back the way they came, but then what? The Butchers were still out there wanting his head, and if they saw Wilbur? “So, what’ll it be? One of your three lives, or the tyrant living on borrowed time?”

The answer is simple, really.

“Techno…” Wilbur whispers, clutching onto the back of Techno’s cape, coughing a few times. Techno semi-consciously holds onto Wilbur tighter when he sees blue stain his shoulder. “Techno, I’m fine. We can make a run for it. I-I can keep up-”

Techno gently sets Wilbur down. Wilbur immediately tries getting up only to end in another coughing fit, blue splattering against the blackstone. “T-Techno-”

“Alright, Dream,” Techno says standing up straight. He keeps his face passive. Dream’s grin peeks out from under the mask. He adjusts his grip on the axe, thumb running along the worn leather hilt. “Let’s just get this over with. You know how much I hate dying.”

_(“Dream gave me the TNT,” Wilbur whispers, staring into his cup of hot cocoa. Friend baah’s in concern and rubs against his leg. “I...I remember beginning to change my mind. Gathering enough explosives to blow up an entire in such a short amount of time was impossible. And...and maybe it was for the better if Schlatt stayed in power. I certainly wasn’t a good enough leader. Then Dream showed up. And he had the TNT- eleven fucking stacks! It...I felt so free. Tommy tried to stop me, but it was too late. I was the bomb, and he lit the fuse.)_

_(“When I found out flying isn’t allowed on the server, I had to enter through back channels means,” Phil sorts through the chests reorganizing the contents inside. “Otherwise my wings would have been clipped. Or worse. Quackity- Tubbo’s new VP- he got his wings clipped to be allowed on the server. But mine...mine are too big. The feathers would grow back too fast. If I had joined properly...he probably would have cut them off completely. I’m a bit surprised he hasn’t already.”)_

_(“Please…” Tommy clings onto Techno’s cape with shaking hands, curled up into the corner of the basement, sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead. He chokes on a sob. His eyes have entirely lost their blue leaving him with only a dull, lifeless look. “Please, don’t let Dream find me...please...please I can’t- I don’t want to go back I don’t- I was so- alone so alone so...please...please…”)_

_(“You lied to me…” Techno whispers standing over the corpse that has yet to despawn, glazed, lifeless eyes staring into the sky, the grass stained red. They should have respawned by now. The corpse should be gone. Dream sets a hand on Techno’s shoulder. “You...you said they respawn. This- I told you I was done killing people!” He is going to be sick._

_“They do, but accidents happen,” Dream says, entirely unphased. He wipes blood off his mask and looks up at the scoreboard. “Oh, look, we’ve gone up in the rankings. Just a few more points and we’ll take first place. Come on, Blade, we gotta get back. Next game will be starting soon.”)_

Before Dream can react, Techno grabs him by the collar of his stupid hoodie and yanks him close. Dream stumbles phasing in a sword and stabbing him in the side. But Techno doesn't falter. He raises the axe, anger burning in his veins, red filling his vision. _“Stay the fuck away from my family.”_ He growls, only loud enough for Dream to hear.

**_TECHNOPROTECT TECHNOKILL_ **

_S̷̫͐Ǘ̶͇C̸̢̎K̸̡͊ ̸̬̚I̷̥͐T̴̖̏ ̶̪̈́Ĝ̴͕R̶̠̎Ê̵̤E̶͕͊N̷̩̕ ̴̘̋B̷̮̈́O̴͈̅O̶͎̽Ō̶̞Ō̸̺O̵̦̾Y̷̬̍_

A sickening crunch fills his ears and blood splatters across his face. The splintered mask clatters onto the ground. He lets go watching the limp body collapse at his feet slowly withering away into ash.

_[Dream was slain by Technoblade using Axe of Peace]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ngl this entire chapter is the reason why i made this fic GBHNJ i was like "yooo what would happen if wilbur was alive during technos execution and they were bros" and then BOOM
> 
> totem translations  
> ʖ𝙹∷∷𝙹∴ᒷ↸ ꖎ╎⎓ᒷ ᓵ𝙹ᒲᒷᓭ ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ ᔑ !¡∷╎ᓵᒷ - Borrowed life comes with a price  
> ∷╎ᓭᒷ ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ, ⊣𝙹↸ 𝙹⎓ ʖꖎ𝙹𝙹↸ - Rise again, God of Blood
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	20. Ghosts of The Past

Wilbur watches L’manburg fade into the distance, the boat being pushed through the waves out into the ocean, growing farther and farther away from the shore.

His adrenaline simmers down and his thoughts start taking a downwards spiral. He massages his aching palms, sore from using a bow so much, his entire body rebelling against him. 

Phil, Techno, and Tommy are sleeping on the far end of the boat. Phil has his wings protectively wrapped around the two with his arms crossed over his chest. Techno is leaning into Phil’s side with his head on his shoulder whereas Tommy has his head on Phil’s lap and is cuddling one of Phil’s arms. The three had fallen asleep, not long after the boat left the dock and their wounds were tended to. Wilbur's body longed for sleep, wanting nothing more to join the three and let his mind drift away, but every time his eyes fell shut all he saw was blood.

Wilbur remembers coming to his senses after Techno fled the execution. He remembers falling to his knees, choking on his blood, chest heavy with guilt, writhing about in pain until he managed to blink the tears away and find the strength to stand.

The entire execution stage was no more by the time Wilbur came to his senses. The platform was destroyed, a smoking pile of rubble. People were frantically swimming toward land. A loud cloud of smoke had stained the once clear sky, blocking out the sun. It was like the final battle all over again. Wilbur hadn’t changed.

The worst part is, Wilbur can’t bring himself to feel angry. He’s somehow, just a little relieved. That, deep down, the Wilbur everyone knew and loved remains. He saw the pain in their eyes every time they stared at him. He's just a shell. A living ghost of a man who once lived. Wilbur remembers how it felt aiming his bow towards the stage, fully prepared to kill the ones who dared to hurt his loved ones, feeling nothing but pure animosity. It is almost like he had been a completely different person.

It’s like a switch inside of him had been flipped. On that rooftop, the tyrant everyone believed to be dead had returned. Wilbur remembers looking out over L’manburg and wanting nothing more than to blow it all up once again. The sheer ecstasy he felt watching them all scatter about like ants. In a matter of minutes, the person he has strived to become had died. And that is what terrifies him the most.

Wilbur tugs his gloves off. His left hand has lost its opacity, the transparency steadily creeping up his arm. He’s losing more and more of himself every day. He won’t be able to keep this secret from the others for much longer.

“Hey,” Wilbur’s throat is raw and he nearly breaks into a coughing fit. His voice is, thankfully, heard and he watches the new kid’s ears perk up. “You uh- you helped them during the execution," he nods. "Thanks. I’m sorry we got you dragged into all of this though.”

“No, I...I involved myself I-” Ranboo cuts himself off. Wilbur rests his head on his arm watching the teen patiently. His eyes darted about the boat. They eventually settle on his hands folded on his lap. “I just...I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right, you know? They- they told me we were going to have a trial, but then I saw Tommy and I- I thought ‘oh, maybe this won’t be so bad’ and then…”

“How do you know my brother?” He prompts, perking up slightly. It’s nice knowing Tommy had more friends other than Tubbo. Tommy might be loud and social, but he has always had a hard time finding friends that would keep up with his antics. Maybe that's why Wilbur had warmed up so easily to Tubbo. The kid fit right into their odd little dynamic. One day it had just been Tommy and Wilbur, and then the next it was Tommy, Wilbur, and Tubbo.

“He uh...well, on my first day, we kinda...griefed a house? Turns out it was king George's."

"When did Gogy become king..?" Wilbur mutters out loud.

"It uh. It just kinda escalated from there. During the trial, Tommy took all the blame so I wouldn't get in trouble and got exiled, and I started visiting him in Logstedshire. I would leave him mail, help him gather resources, and bring some things I knew Dream wouldn’t take from him. It…” there’s a long pause. Ranboo’s tail settles on his lap and he begins to nervously comb his fingers through the two-toned fur at the end. “I just wish I could have done more...I didn’t...I hadn’t realized just how bad it was until Tubbo came to my house in tears and…and then I went myself and saw the tower and...we all thought he...he...”

His head lifts, his eyes are glossy with tears. The silence speaks for itself. “Sorry. I’m sorry I should have done more I-”

“Thank you,” Wilbur keeps his eyes on Ranboo’s forehead, distantly remembering reading in a book about how endermen hate eye contact. He didn’t know if it applied here, but he didn’t want to make the kid anymore uncomfortable than he already is. Ranboo already seems terrified enough around Techno’s presence. “If you hadn’t been there for him, I don’t know what would’ve happened. So thank you.”

“Yeah...but I...I don’t want to leave L’manburg, you know?” Ranboo pulls his knees to his chest. His skinny tail wraps around his ankles. “It’s my first home. My pets are there, my house, my things. I...I have- had?- friends. Tubbo, Niki, Fundy...but they’ll all hate me now. But it just- it wasn’t _right_. I just...I don’t understand why this is all happening in the first place…and now...”

“You and I both,” he sighs, smiling a bit at Ranboo’s confused look. “I have memory loss. It’s...I remember most of the good things and some bad, but it’s...they aren’t _my_ memories. They’re the memories of a different Wilbur-”

“I have memory loss too!” Ranboo interrupts suddenly. He’s leaning forward now with wide eyes, his tail swishing behind him, hunching down in his seat so he isn’t towering over Wilbur. “I...I don’t know why, but as far as I know, I’ve always had it. I-I write down important things like who my friends are and a summary of the day in my memory book.”

It’s then he realizes Ranboo wasn’t there when the old Wilbur was alive. He didn’t have to see the pain in his eyes when he acted differently or couldn’t remember a specific memory that the past Wilbur would have. This is someone who finally _understands_. Someone who knows how it feels to blink and suddenly feel lost. Aware that there is something you're forgetting. When there is something so close, yet the trail of breadcrumbs ends too early leaving no answers to be found.

All that’s left is a gaping hole in your chest.

_(“Again?” Techno asks, his face half pressed into the pillow, having been woken from his slumber. Wilbur nods. He shimmies back on the bed when the man sits up, stretching arms above his head, blinking a few times. “Alright, gimme your hands,” once again, Wilbur nods, squeezing onto Techno’s hands tightly. He scoots close until their knees bump. “Do you remember what your name is?”_

_“...Wilbur.”_

_“Good. Do you know where you are?” He hesitates. Wilbur glances around the room. The shields on the walls, the clothes tossed about the floor, the precariously stacked tower of books- it all feels familiar, and new at the same time. Techno sighs. He squeezes Wilbur’s hands. “You’re in my house. You’re home. We’re up north, far away from any danger, safe. Do you know who I am?”_

_“Technoblade.”_

_“That’s better than last time. Do you know what day it is?” Wilbur shakes his head. “That’s something we both have in common,” the dry joke brings a smile to Wilbur’s face. “Come on, I’ll get breakfast started.”)_

“I have a memory book too,” Wilbur smiles. “It’s more for writing things that I remember from the past, but I write down memories I’ve made as well.” He tilts his head, mulling over his thoughts. “Do...you melt in the rain?”

“Uh, no, but it does burn me if I stay in it for too long. Snow is a lot more tolerable, but it can sting,” Ranboo explains. “I think it’s an enderman thing.”

“I melt in water. Snow as well. I think it’s a...whatever-I-am thing. We’re still not really sure what to call this state I’m in yet.” He sighs closing his eyes. “Where do you plan on going? Once we reach shore.”

“I’m...I’m not sure yet. I can’t go back to L’manburg or...I don’t really wanna know what will happen. I...I might just make a shack somewhere.”

“You could always stay with us.” Wilbur offers. Ranboo falls silent, debating his options.

“I...I wouldn’t want to impose but...I’ll think about it.” He begins fiddling with his suit sleeves. Before Ranboo can speak, Wilbur drapes his cape around his shoulders. “What-”

“When we get to the cottage, remind me to get you new clothes. Even if you aren’t staying with us, the north is pretty cold. You’ll freeze to death in just a suit. I can’t even feel the cold anymore, so don’t worry about it.”

Ranboo reluctantly snuggles into the cape. Wilbur is tall, but on Ranboo the cape barely reaches his knees. “Yeah, almost did when we showed up earlier. I hadn’t really...thought it through.”

“I could tell,” he teases lightly. It isn’t long until Phil wakes up, stretching his arms, careful not to wake the others. “Hey.” Wilbur quickly tugs his gloves back on, ignoring Ranboo’s questioning stare.

“How far out are we?” Phil yawns behind his hand, scratching at the stubble along his jaw.

“Uh, should be a few more hours,” Ranboo mutters after checking his communicator. “I’ve been going as fast as I can.”

“Don’t worry, mate,” he leans back combing his fingers through Tommy's hair. “If anything, we can use the downtime. Gotta figure out where to go from here.”

“We’ll have to move, won’t we?” Wilbur asks, staring at the ground. He knew the moment Dream showed up that their home wasn’t safe any longer. They’re all war criminals, and it wouldn’t be long until L’manburg comes after them again.

“Most likely. I don’t...know what Techno’s thinking, but we have to move further out. Probably somewhere that hasn’t been touched by anyone on the server yet.” Phil muses. “It might take some time, though. A lot of planning especially with all the animals. L’manburg will most likely come after us again, and Dream, so we might have to focus on protecting ourselves. And then there’s your resurrection.”

Wilbur freezes. Ranboo glances between them in confusion but doesn’t speak up.

“Um…how long until you think we can complete the resurrection? I’m…” Wilbur quietly interjects. “I'm tired, Phil. I try so hard, but it never..everything keeps going wrong, and I can't do anything about it. I’m..."

Phil’s gaze softens. "I know, mate. We'll figure it out, okay? I've been doing all the research I can."

“How much longer?”

“Maybe a few more weeks? I’ll need to sneak into L’manburg once I’m healed to get my books, and there are still some more paragraphs I haven’t translated…” Wilbur nods, keeping his face pensive.

“Um…” Their attention is stolen by Ranboo who shrinks in on himself. “I don’t really know what’s going on, but if you need something translated, I know a few languages. I might be able to help.”

“Ranboo, you’re a lifesaver,” Phil laughs sitting forward. “Alright, once we get home Ranboo and I will set to work on translating the books I have in my room. How are you doing, by the way, Ranboo? I wasn’t really able to ask you at the docks.”

“I’m…” Ranboo’s eyes flick over to Wilbur. He tucks the lower half of his face into the fur collar. “I’m alright. Um...I was uh...since I’m not really a part of L’manburg anymore...uh…”

As if reading Ranboo’s thoughts, Phil interrupts his shy stammers. “Do you need a place to stay?” Ranboo sits up straight and his ears flick upwards, hugging his tail to his chest.

“I- um- yes! Yes, please. If- if it isn’t too much trouble. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Not at all, mate.”

“See, I told you,” Wilbur smirks at Ranboo’s annoyed pout. “Phil loves taking in stray kids.”

“Wil, the only kid I took in was Tommy.”

“That’s one orphan too many.”

“Now you’re just sounding like Techno.” Phil narrows his eyes at Wilbur who lasts a full minute before bursting out into laughter. He slaps a hand over his mouth, eyeing Techno and Tommy who thankfully stay asleep, a few snorts escaping. Ranboo snickers quietly, his dimples showing when he smiles. Phil rolls his eyes fondly.

The three continue conversing in low whispers, the boat continuing through the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilbur: i have only known ranboo for a few hours but if anything happened to him id kill everyone on this server and then myself  
> ranboo: PLEASE DONT???
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	21. Tit For Tat

Techno wakes up unable to breathe.

His fingers clutch onto the sheets turning his knuckles white. Sweat makes his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin. A scream nearly tears out of his throat. He slaps a hand over his mouth. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He begins counting down from ten, barely able to hear his own thoughts over the beating of his heart.

Ever since the execution, he keeps waking up like this. It has been three days since returning, and yet they still haven’t passed. Vivid dreams of Tommy or Phil being slaughtered before him and to watch the life in their eyes drain away inside the cage. He’ll be back in the tunnel watching Dream plunge his sword through Wilbur’s chest, his delirious laughter haunting him even in the waking world. More often than not, Techno dreams of dying. 

Of returning to that dark, inescapable, endlessly expanding abyss. He’ll drift on for an eternity. Never to see the sun again.

Techno feels like he hasn’t slept a wink. It makes him exhausted thinking about it, and he considers laying back down, even with the bright morning sunlight that’s peeking past the curtains. He may not fall asleep, but the idea of getting up to face another day is just as bad as dying. Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself to cope with the nightmares.

**_breakfast yum we need food to kill_ **

_C̷O̷O̷K̸Z̶A̵ ̷C̵O̷O̶K̵Z̶A̸ ̷E̴A̶T̶ ̵E̸A̶T̶ ̵E̷A̵T̶ ̶C̶O̶O̷K̵Z̴A̷ ̴C̵O̴O̸K̵Z̷A̷ ̸_

His stomach growls.

He can smell food in the air along with the sound of light chatter. Someone- probably Phil- must've made breakfast.

Swinging his feet off the bed, Techno gets to his feet, massaging his pounding temples, ignoring how cold and empty he feels. As if some part of him died in the execution and never came back. He may as well get up though. The last thing Techno needs is for Phil and Wilbur to fret over him. Techno stumbles his way to the mirror. He begins his morning routine of brushing his hair and adjusting to Chat’s demands for attention. The only difference now is his reflection.

A golden scar runs diagonally across his face stopping at his jaw. When he touches the gold, it’s hard, blending seamlessly into his skin. His right eye has turned entirely white. Not a pupil or iris in sight. Techno isn’t quite sure how his eyesight has not been affected. Ever since the execution, there has been an _itch_ under his skin. A longing to feel the totem’s powers flow through his body once again.

Techno sets his brush aside. He combs his fingers through the pink strands and twists them into a simple braid that frames the right side of his face. Hopefully, it can keep attention off his eye. Not that Techno is self-conscious, but he’d rather not face everyone’s pity. With a heavy sigh, Techno heads out of his room. He uses the wall for support still recovering from his execution.

“And- oh, hello, Technoblade!” Ranboo perks up when he sees Techno exit the hall. He’s adjusted well, all things considered. He’s polite, keeps to himself, doesn’t take things from Techno’s chests like Tommy, and funny. Techno didn’t trust him, but he did, sorta, like having him around.

Techno grunts and makes a beeline towards the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. He isn’t the biggest fan of caffeine, but without it, the headaches return tenfold. It’s bad enough having Tommy around. He's never been a morning person. “Phil and I have been working on translating the tomes on resurrection that he has. They’re actually very interesting. A lot of the language derives from Ender, but it’s an older form of Ender. One that is less well-known. But we’ve already written up an alphabet for it, and are working on translating passage by passage!”

**_too many words_ **

_w̸e̶ ̷a̵r̶e̴ ̶t̴o̴o̷ ̴s̷m̵o̷o̶t̶h̸ ̸b̷r̴a̴i̵n̷ ̶f̷o̷r̴ ̷t̷h̷i̴s̷ ̷m̷a̷k̴e̷ ̸i̷t̵ ̸s̴t̸o̶p̴_

“How’d you sleep?” Phil glances over. His hair is pulled back in a messy bun keeping it out of his eyes which are sporting heavy bags. A cup of tea is held in his hands.

“Meh. Have you slept at all?” Techno leans against the counter regarding the two. Ranboo is pretending to read the book, politely keeping himself out of the conversation. He’s doing a poor job at it- his ears keep flicking when they speak. Phil shrugs. “Figured. Made any progress?”

“Nothing that I haven’t already learned. At this point, I’m beginning to think we’re running in circles. I still don’t know what went wrong in the first place.” He braces his elbows on the table resting his forehead on his hands. Techno lays a hand on Phil’s back. “What if I can’t fix this?”

“You’ll fix it. I know you will,” he reassures Phil quickly. The last thing they need is for Phil to lose hope. He’s the glue keeping them all together. At Ranboo’s concerned look, Techno shrugs, mouthing a quick ‘don’t look at me I have no idea what I’m doing’ to the kid. 

“I…” Phil gets up to refill his tea. “I have to kill Wil again.”

“What?”

“They have to re-experience what killed them. I don’t know why. None of this makes any sense, but we don’t have time to search for alternative methods. Wilbur already knows all of this, and he said he’s alright with continuing.” His shoulders are drawn to his ears and Phil grips the counter tightly in his hands.

“...but are you alright?” Ranboo, surprisingly, prompts. His eyes are thoughtful, head tilted slightly. “I mean- you would be killing him again.”

“I…” Phil swallows. When he turns, his eyes are glazed with tears. His lips raise in a sad smile. “I’ve already had enough time to mourn the son who died in my arms. I think it’s about time I fix what I started.”

Techno rubs his forehead. Phil may seem collected on the outside, but Techno knows the man is breaking on the inside. If this doesn’t work out, he isn’t sure what may happen. “We need a totem, right?” Phil nods. “I’ve got a woodland explorer’s map. Ranboo-” his head shoots up. “You’re coming with. I’d take Tommy, but knowing him he’ll just make the trip unbearably longer. I can go alone, but with another person, we can clear it out faster.”

“Ye-yeah! I’m okay with that. I um...I guess for now I’ll keep translating?”

“Nah, I think we’re done for today,” Phil sits back down at the table closing his book. “Anymore reading and I think I might lose it.”

Techno hums. He can hear Wilbur moving about in the attic, most likely just waking up. That just leaves one person unaccounted for. “How’s Tommy?”

The two fall silent. Ranboo pushes his fork around on his plate avoiding eye contact. Phil sighs into his tea making himself smaller. Techno winces. “That bad?”

“He’s been training nonstop since waking up,” Ranboo mutters. “I heard him sneaking off last night, as well, to go kill mobs. He’s…”

“Coping,” Techno finishes for him. He knows the method too well. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Technoblade?” Phil jokes lightly, smiling up at Techno. He chuckles when Techno glares over his mug. “Sorry, mate. He should be by the garden.”

With a nod, Techno steals Ranboo’s bread. His narrow eyes at the stolen bread and Techno hums. “Oh, and if you plan on staying here, you need to pay rent.”

“Of- of course!” Ranboo sits up straight. Bread forgotten. “I was thinking of building a temporary shack in the mountainside nearby.”

“Techno, give the kid a break,” Phil chuckles, and he has an amused smile on his face. “Ranboo, don’t listen to Techno.”

“I expect rent in two days,” Techno continues. He grabs his cape off the hook clipping it around his shoulders. He uses the wall for support as he laces up his boots.

**_do not trust betrayer traitor cannot trust not one of us not one_ **

_r̶a̶n̸b̸r̵o̵t̷h̵e̵r̸!̵ ̵t̶e̴c̸h̸n̴o̵s̷o̵f̶t̴!̴ ̶_

The hinges squeak as Techno pushes open the door. He makes a mental note to check it out later. It’s been a while since he last did maintenance on the house. Techno kicks snow off the porch as he shuts the door behind him.

Even without Phil’s help, Techno knew how to find Tommy. All he had to do was follow the screams. They’re carried through the wind ringing across the tundra. Techno walks in the ankle-deep snow until he spots Tommy. He hasn’t noticed Techno. Too caught up in whatever is bothering him.

“Stupid stupid stupid stupid-” the words are emphasized by each stab at the air. Tommy is poorly dressed for the weather- only in short sleeves and loose sweats- his cheeks are flushed pink from the cold and Techno’s surprised his limbs haven’t frozen over. The snow is littered with his footsteps. A diamond sword is gripped in his bandaged hands. Techno sighs. “Stupid-”

“I think the air has been insulted enough,” Techno interrupts. Tommy jerks and stumbles over his feet. Before he can hit the ground, Techno grabs the back of his shirt. He raises an eyebrow.

“Let go of me-” Tommy yelps when Techno releases him. He falls face-first in the snow. He rolls onto his back, scrubbing his face clean, sporting a permanent scowl. “You’re a real dick, Technoblade.”

“You did say let go,” he crouches down resting his arms on his knees. Tommy turns his head away from Techno. “Spit it out, Tommy.”

“Spit what out, huh? I was doing completely fine until you showed up and distracted me!” Techno snorts. It was pretty funny if he thought about it. If not for the clear tension in Tommy’s shoulders, he would’ve teased him about it.

“Tommy, you were trying to kill the air.” His mouth opens, but Techno cuts him off. “The _air_. You could’ve at least set up a training dummy. Or make yourself useful and chop down some trees for wood.”

“So what, huh? I can do what I fucking want!” When Techno simply raises an eyebrow, Tommy grumbles under his breath, blond hair sprawled out around his head like a halo. “I’m just...trynna get stronger, okay?” He relents. He’s pouting slightly.

“Why?”

“Because if I was stronger, that fucking execution wouldn’t have happened! Is that what you wanna fucking hear?!” Tommy tosses an arm over his eyes. “If I hadn’t fucking hesitated when I saw Tubbo then no one would’ve gotten hurt. I- I should have done _more_. I- I just watched! I’m so fucking useless.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty weak.”

“Not helping, Technoblade!”

“But the execution was inevitable,” Techno chooses his words carefully. Tommy shuts his mouth. “Even if we had fought off the Butchers, they would have just come after us again. Maybe with more people. And if we hadn’t been taken to L’manburg, we wouldn’t have known about Phil’s house arrest. They had his communicator. Can’t change the past, Tommy.”

“Yeah, but, I should’ve done something! All I did was just sit there and watch! If- if I got you out of the cage then- then- you wouldn’t have fucking died!” And there it is. Tommy’s hands ball into fists and he grits his teeth. “I- they killed you. They _killed_ you! With an anvil! I just- how is that right?! How is- I can’t-”

“What do you want, Tommy?” He asks calmly. The question takes Tommy off guard. He lifts his arm, striking blue eyes glaring at Techno tears threatening to fall. “Do you want revenge?”

“I-” Tommy hesitates. He chews his bottom lip. Techno can see the conflicting emotions on his face, undecided. “I don’t know. Maybe? I don’t...what about you?”

**_KILL THEM DESTROY THEM MAKE THEM BEG FOR THEIR LIVES_ **

_B̸L̶O̷O̵D̶ ̸F̷O̸R̴ ̷T̸H̷E̶ ̶B̴L̶O̴O̸D̶ ̶G̷O̴D̷_

“I did. Once.”

“Why?” Tommy furrows his brows. Techno rubs his neck when it begins cramping, the cold settling into his bones.

“Well, I think gettin’ forced outta my own home and gettin’ executed is a good enough reason. And then, of course, there’s the government. Would've destroyed it sooner if I didn't have to babysit Wil. And…”

He hesitates.

Techno brings his finger to the snow drawing random symbols and patterns, his body itching to move. He’s beginning to wish he stayed inside. Tommy watches silently, the falling snowflakes settling onto his rosy cheeks. “'Cause of you.” Tommy visible freezes. His mind processes the words. "Well... _for_ you more like it."

“Wha- why? I thought you hated me?”

“I’ve never _hated_ you,” he snorts, finishing off his drawing of a pig wearing a crown. “You betrayed me-”

“You betrayed us first.”

“-and it hurt for a long time, but I’ve started to move on. I know why you did what you did. But L’manburg exiled you. You were...hurt by Dream, and nearly froze to death out there. No one deserves that. Let alone you. You’re just a kid, Tommy. And surprisingly enough, I actually care about people.”

“I’m sixteen ‘m not a kid,” the words carry no hostility. There’s a starry look in his eyes. “So...you want to destroy a nation, for little ol' me? Aww, big brother Technoblade-”

“Well, not exactly,” Techno quickly backtracks. If anything to get Tommy to stop staring at him like that. Like he was a good person. “I already told you, they’re a government and all. Everyone who’s a part of it is corrupt. And- and yeah, I'd rather get rid of them now so they can't hurt anyone else. But I- I don’t want revenge anymore.”

Tommy abruptly sits up, a cloud of snow being kicked up as he does. Techno keeps his eyes on the ground. His tail lays over his feet. “I just...I’m tired. I...retirement is nice. I like the calm. Knowing I have a home to come back to.” _Having a family_ goes unsaid. A heavy weight on his heart.

“I’ve never had a home,” Tommy admits. He’s staring into the sky, a distant longing in his eyes, arms wrapped around his knees. “I don’t even remember my parents. They died in the war, and until Phil adopted me, I was on my own. I mean- there was the Antarctic Empire, sure, but I hadn’t stayed there long. Wilbur and I- we never had a home after leaving. Always jumping from server to server, living in stupid dirt shacks. We had a place on Hypixel but it wasn’t really a home. I...I thought that L’manburg could be that home, yah know? But then that went up in flames.”

**_ew opening up chat hold hands_ **

_R̶E̴D̵ ̴A̷L̶E̷R̶T̸ ̷E̸M̸O̶T̷I̸O̷N̸S̶ ̴I̵N̷C̶O̴M̷I̷N̵G̸_

“I started the Antarctic Empire to take over the world,” Techno says, surprising both Chat and Tommy, wincing when the voices scream in laughter. “It uh. It wasn’t really my home either.”

He doesn’t mention the voices. The ghosts of his ancestors that turned him into the monster he is today.

“...what the fuck, Technoblade?!” Tommy laughs, his tail swishing along the snow. Techno chuckles and sits back on his hands.

“And I _did_ take over the world. For like a day. I eventually gave it back to avoid getting thousands upon thousands of angry people on my footstep. Honestly, world domination isn’t really all it seems to be. It was just a lot of paperwork and people with torches and swords,” the blond ducks his head between his knees as he keeps laughing. He eyes the healing cut on Tommy's neck.

_("I know he’s on his last life, and I don’t care. I’m more than happy to kill a traitor.”)_

Tommy's laughter cuts off into a surprised squeak when Techno pulls him into a hug. Tommy’s hands braced against his chest blinking wildly. “Uh…you good there, big man?” He chuckles awkwardly. "This is kinda...not you."

**_kill who hurt him make them pay in blood keep child safe_ **

_T̷E̸C̴H̷N̶O̸S̷O̸F̶T̶ ̷B̷R̷O̴T̴H̷E̵R̵I̸N̸N̵I̴T̸ ̸B̵A̸B̷Y̷ ̶B̴R̶O̶T̶H̷E̷R̵_

“Shut up. I nearly died so give me a break.” Techno hums into his curls. Tommy carefully hugs back, eyes wide as he stares to the side, a fluffy ear to Techno’s chest. “I told you not to get involved. You almost got hurt because of me.”

Once upon a time, Techno would have sacrificed everyone if it meant appeasing the voices, fulfilling the destiny they whispered in his ears. Now all he wanted was to make sure his family never stopped smiling. That Tommy never felt the need to escape from the world again.

“It was just gonna be house arrest,” Tommy huffs but the argument is weak. “I mean, it would've fucking sucked, but I would've been fine! I totally could've fought them all in a fight and-”

“I wouldn't have let it get to that point,” he interrupts Tommy softly. He can feel Tommy's fingers clutch onto his cape tighter. "I..."

_(“...how’s Tommy?” Phil looks up and he tilts his head. Techno continues peeling his potato refusing to meet his eye. “After the withers and. All that.”_

_“He’s good. Someone dropped a potion of health on him, so it stopped the poison before it could kill him. It’s dormant for now, but chances of it affecting him in the future are pretty small,” Techno’s shoulders relax. He hunches in on himself when Phil knowingly hums. “Now I wonder just who could’ve dropped the potion, though.”_

_“It was a chaotic battle. Probably Tubbo or something.”_

_“Uhuh, sure. Sure.”)_

“I’ll always be there for you. Even if Dream and the entire server is against you, I'd step in."

“...I’m not sorry, just wanna put this out there,” Tommy grumbles, and Techno smiles. “But...I do kinda regret what I said. Just a little bit. Again, I’m not sorry, because I’m always right but-”

“Me too.”

They stay like that for a while. Techno holding Tommy close, reassuring himself that he’s alive, feeling his chest rise and fall. Safe. Tommy stays quiet, his silence speaking more than words ever could, enjoying the moment of rare vulnerability. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean tommy betrayed techno in canon? i only know of the bedrock boys
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
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	22. Aftermath of an Explosion

Techno massages his throbbing temples. 

There are countless scrolls tossed around his feet. The wax seals have all been cut open. After an hour of reading, though, all the words seem to have blended. Multiple maps lay strewn about his desk with a compass and paperweight pinning down the largest. He twirls a gold-encrusted fountain pen around in his fingers. He leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. The light creeping in from the window illuminates the dust particles that dance about in the air. 

Reflecting off the sunbeams, one could mistake it as glitter. 

How long has he been in here? The last time Techno looked out the window it had been nightfall.

**_hours hours many hours late grow weak when tired_ **

_ t̸h̸i̸s̴ ̷i̴s̵ ̶s̷o̴ ̸b̴o̶o̸r̷i̶n̵g̸g̵g̵g̷g̷ ̸l̸e̸t̸s̷ ̷g̷o̵ ̷d̵o̸ ̶s̸o̷m̷e̸ ̷a̷c̸t̴i̴o̴n̸ ̶o̸r̶ ̴t̵a̴l̵k̶ ̷t̷o̷ ̴T̴o̵m̸m̴y̸!̸!̷ _

“Sleep finally hitting you?” Phil chuckles from where he’s seated on Techno’s bed. He’s criss-cross with tomes spread out in a circle around him. Techno stifles a yawn and rubs his bleary eyes. His ear perks up when he hears Phil’s laughter. “Yeah, me too. Any day now though and I’ll have this whole resurrection business figured out.”

Techno hums. He slips his glasses off, setting them aside on his desk. Due to the totem, Techno doesn’t even need to use glasses anymore, but he does out of habit. They help him feel normal. “Phil, can you look at this for a second? I’m planning out the relocation of our base.”

“You could just say moving house,” the bed creaks and Phil’s socks thud on the floor. A hand rests on the back of his chair. Techno smooths a hand over the map, adjusting the compass to hold down an unflattened corner.

“Okay, so this is a map of the server. Or, at least, what people have discovered.” Techno taps his pen against different points he’s marked down. “These are all the most known lands that have been claimed. L’manburg, the Guardian farm, the jungle base, and so on.”

“Right,” Phil nods. He taps his finger against the drawings. “Some of these places look familiar. Especially in the east here.”

“We’re here,” he draws a circle around an area in the north. “If we head further north, there is the server border. Yah know, the giant invisible wall that keeps us trapped like animals in a pen.”

“With you so far.”

Techno smirks, sitting back in his chair. “Let’s break it.”

“...okay, you’ve lost me mate.”

“I didn’t even know it was possible until Chat told me about it,” Techno explains watching the gears turn in Phil’s head.

“Are you sure they aren’t lying to you about it?”

**_HOW DARE HE WE WOULD NEVER LIE_ **

_ E̶E̴E̴E̵E̵E̶E̵E̴E̵E̴E̶E̸E̷E̴E̴E̴ _

“Nah, they wouldn’t lie about this. It’s hard, but we can break the server border allowing us to venture outward.” A sparkle appears in Phil’s eyes. “Now, the obvious answer is we leave the server altogether, and I doubt everyone would agree to just up ‘n’ leave. Not to mention we’d need Dream’s permission. But he’s got this place under lock and key. It’s how no news of what happens on the server gets out.”

“But if we break the border, Dream won’t know where we are. No one will.” Phil continues, leaning over the desk. “It would be a long trip. At least a few weeks.”

“More like a month with how many of us there are.” Techno sighs. “And if we leave before finishing all this totem business, we’ll have to take extra precautions. The entire server is practically our enemy.”

“Well, it’s a start,” Phil rests his hand on Techno’s shoulder. His eyes scan over the map. “How do you know Dream won’t find out we broke the border?”

“Eh, it’s a gamble.” Techno scratches an ear. “Usually, admins get stronger the longer a server is up, but Dream kinda just...speedrun that. Just like he does with everything in life. So there’s no telling what he knows and what he doesn’t.”

**_we will just kill him again no one can get in our way_ **

_ A̷N̴Y̶ ̸A̸S̶K̷E̷R̴S̸ ̸I̷N̴ ̷T̸H̶E̸ ̶C̷H̶A̶T̸?̴?̷?̸ _

“Mm, it’s dangerous. But then again when have we ever done something safe?” Phil snorts. He takes Techno’s pen and begins marking out possible routes, muttering under his breath. He has always been better at understanding maps and terrain. “We can always scout ahead to find the best route before making the move. It would be easier if I could fly…”

“It’s fine. We have the horses,” Techno quickly cuts in. “And we can use our tridents to cross the ocean. Since Wilbur and Ranboo can’t go in the water, they can use a boat.”

“I thought you didn’t like Ranboo,” Phil raises an eyebrow over his shoulder. Techno rolls his eyes. “Aww, is he growin’ on you?”

**_do not trust him traitor traitor part of government a new betrayer_ **

_ r̶a̸n̸b̴r̸o̷t̷h̸e̷r̷ ̶r̷a̴n̸b̴r̵o̵t̶h̵e̷r̷ ̸r̶a̸n̴b̶r̸o̸t̷h̴e̶r̷ ̶r̵a̸n̴b̸r̷o̶t̵h̴e̷r̷!̷!̸!̸ _

“ _ If _ Ranboo comes with, he can join Wilbur in the boat.” He corrects before Phil can keep grilling him. Phil laughs heartily. “We could travel on the Nether roof, but it will be hard transporting all the animals.”

Phil inhales sharply. “Ooh, yeah. Hmm, Overworld travel might be the best then. We only really need two of each and we’ll be set. As for everything else, we’ll only need essentials. I could possibly craft us a cart to carry chests...” Techno nods making a few notes off to the side. “Maybe this time we can avoid living in the snow.”

“You’re the one who suggested I go north,” Techno points out without any real heat. “...I think a change of scenery would be good. For all of us.”

“Right. I can take Tommy with me to stock up on potion supplies and-”

The door to his room flies open.

Standing in the doorway is a panting Ranboo. There is dirt smeared across his suit jacket. His mismatched eyes dart around until he spots the two, his pupils in thin slits.

“Ranboo? Mate, what’s wrong?” Phil immediately falls into worried dad mode, gripping onto the teen’s arms when he stumbles forward. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Techno stands from his desk. He takes in Ranboo’s state. He’s not injured physically, but with how he’s staring at the two it really does look as if he’s seen a ghost. Ranboo’s mouth opens and closes a few times. A few panicked warbles sound from the back of his throat. “What-”

“Wil...Wil he…” Ranboo stammers. “We- we were in the garden and- then we came in and- we were watching him h-he was- but- I don’t- I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m-” Techno is storming past before Ranboo can finish. He can hear shouting as he sprints down the hall.

**_wrong wrong something wrong not good turn back back back_ **

_ s̴a̸v̵e̶ ̸h̴i̵m̷ ̴h̴e̸l̶p̵ ̶h̴i̷m̷ ̷t̴e̷c̴h̶n̵o̵p̶r̶o̴t̸e̵c̸t̷ _

Techno turns the corner.

“Wil! Wil, come on, you gotta get up!” Tommy’s frantic cries are the first thing that hits Techno. He’s crying beside an unconscious Wilbur. His entire left arm has crumbled into white particles. Every time the skin breaks off it vanishes before hitting the ground. Friend nudges their nose against Wilbur’s cheek  _ baah-ing _ repeatedly. He doesn’t respond.

Tommy’s head shot up when he heard the floorboards creak. “Techno! I don’t- I don’t know what happened he- I can’t-” his hands clutch onto the ends of Wilbur’s sweater, shaking.

“What’s going on?” Phil and Ranboo come sprinting down the hall. “What- oh my gods…”

“He’s despawning,” Techno mutters. “And fast. I’ve never seen it progress this quickly.”

“What?!” Tommy squeaks. Phil crouches beside Wilbur taking in his state. “But- how? Despawning only affects corpses! He- he still has a pulse!”

“Ranboo, I need a totem of undying,” Ranboo clumsily opens his inventory. Phil snatches the totem and forces Wilbur’s hand to clutch it. 

“Are you about this, Phil?” Techno meets Phil’s eye. “We only have one chance at this.”

“This is our only chance. If he despawns, that’s it. I’m not letting my son die a second time in front of me.” An ender chest spawns beside Phil. Tommy whimpers when Phil pulls out a scratched up diamond sword. “You guys need to stand back.”

Techno grabs Tommy’s hand pulling him back a few steps. Tommy punches his arm trying to rush back to Wilbur’s side. Ranboo follows, sticking relatively close to Techno, his ears drooping.

Ranboo fiddles with his sleeves nervously. “I-I’m sorry I- we shouldn’t have let him go out we-”

“It’s not your fault,” Techno places a hand between Ranboo’s shoulder blades. The kid flinches, unused to physical touch, but doesn’t pull away. “This was gonna happen sooner or later. I am gonna kill him for not telling us about this sooner, though.”

Phil sucks in a deep breath. Techno hears him whisper a soft apology.

Tommy turns his head when Phil plunges the sword into Wilbur’s abdomen. Wilbur doesn’t even react. Blue blood begins to gush out of the fresh wound.

“Is that it-”

Techno holds onto Tommy and Ranboo tightly as Wilbur’s body, quite literally, explodes. He plants his feet firmly on the ground to avoid being knocked over. When the smoke dies, all that’s left is a green and yellow shimmering glow in Wilbur’s place where the totem shattered.

“What now..?” Ranboo asks, breathless, staring at the glow. Tommy mimics a similar expression. He tears his way out of Techno’s hold rushing to Wilbur’s side.

“Now...we wait…” Phil sighs scrubbing a hand over his face. There is blood on his shaking hands and his cheek. “We wait…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i heard people are enjoying the lack of angst. well, we cant have that, now can we? :)
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	23. Hello, Did You Miss Me?

Wilbur won.

He fucking _won_. On every possible account, Wilbur won. He blew up Manberg, cut his symphony off before the grand crescendo could play, and finally- _finally_ \- found peace. When Wilbur woke, his consciousness floating in the inky darkness, he laughed and laughed until could laugh no more.

He won, and yet, why does it feel so hollow?

There is simply nothing in the afterlife. Like every story and myth ever told from the dawn of time, it is a place that was made from absolutely nothing. No Heaven or Hell. No pearly white gates or a pit of eternal damnation. No God.

Nothing.

Wilbur sleeps. He hadn’t done much of that in the living world, he realizes. Too haunted by his demons and paranoia. He spends most of his time sleeping- if you can call it sleeping- floating in the darkness that stretches on forever.

Sometimes, Schlatt wakes him when he gets bored or wants someone to talk to. He doesn’t want to be alone. Wilbur knows that too well. He’ll never voice it out loud, but he enjoys hearing the man ramble on about things, his voice a nice change to the eternal silence. It reminds him of simpler times. Of days on a hill watching the sunset. Two idiotic teenagers laughing as if they were still little kids, setting aside the responsibilities on their shoulders.

Most of the time, though, Wilbur thinks. There isn’t much for him to do except think.

So he thinks. And thinks.

Manberg deserved to go up in a mess of fire and explosions. He did what no one else had the guts to do. He doesn’t regret that. So why does she still haunt him? The flag fluttering in the wind, basking under the golden sun, forever out of his reach. The man he used to be without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Techno once compared Wilbur to Icarus. It’s only now that he sees the similarities.

He wants to stay here where it's peaceful and he can rest. It’s all he’s ever wanted. Ever since Wilbur was a small boy all he wanted was to stay in the paradise that was his childhood home. That’s all he is at the end of the day. A child. And here he went calling Tommy a child. He’s such a hypocrite.

Wilbur sighs, tucking his head between his knees.

He knows he tends to ostracize the ones he loved. It’s a painful habit Wilbur developed. To protect himself. Wilbur remembers how far away he had pushed his baby brother. How, when Tommy looked at him, he no longer recognized the boy in front of him. He only saw a soldier.

He curls in tighter on himself.

Will they be alright without him? He hopes Techno could take the place of the big brother Wilbur failed to be. Wilbur may hold resentment, but he’s glad the two finally met in Pogtopia. He always did believe Techno deserved a family. And Tommy deserves someone better. He hopes Phil and Tommy could mend the relationship Wilbur had destroyed years ago out of his selfish desires. He hopes Tubbo could finally have the father figure he deserved. Phil would like Tubbo.

He just wants his family to be okay.

**_Y𝙹⚍∷ ∴╎ᓭ⍑ ╎ᓭ ⊣∷ᔑリℸ ̣ ᒷ↸, ʖ∷𝙹ꖌᒷリ 𝙹リᒷ_ **

A flood of gold and ruby overtakes his vision.

When Wilbur can see past the flash, a carbon copy of himself hovers in the air. Gold and ruby shimmer around the unconscious man’s form slowly settling into his body. A totem must have been used. It’s the only explanation Wilbur can think of.

Although, he thought totems were gold and green.

_**D𝙹 リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑᓭℸ ̣ ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ᓵ⍑ᔑリᓵᒷ ᔑℸ ̣ ꖎ╎⎓ᒷ** _

Maybe it’s not too late to fix things.

Wilbur reaches out pressing the tips of his fingers to his copy’s forehead. A purple orb emerges from his chest. “You can take the good memories. Maybe, then, you’ll have a better chance than I did.” He watches the orb split into two; red and blue. The blue one settles into his doppelganger’s chest and the red into his own.

With one last glance, Wilbur watches the other- Ghostbur, he decides to call him- be taken away.

“...keep them happy.” He whispers.

It isn’t long until he can’t sense him in the void anymore.

The last of his regrets have been taken care of.

Over time, Wilbur feels himself begin to fade. Good. That means Ghostbur is succeeding. The burden in his chest is lighter. He begins sleeping longer if only to avoid the somber memories that play on repeat before his eyes.

_(“I hate you.”)_

And then, one day, there is an extra space in the void. An all too familiar person stepping into the veil.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Um, I’m Wilbur?”

_(“Down with the revolution, boys! It was never meant to be.”)_

Why is he here? He should be up _there_ with his family doing what he could never do. Wilbur wants nothing more than to spin around and toss Ghostbur back upstairs, but he’s too tired. He resigns himself to smoking the soul sand powered cigarettes. 

He doesn’t know where they came from. Wilbur just remembers waking up and they were there. Sometimes Wilbur sees Schlatt carrying around a bottle of liquor. It must be the void’s way of keeping them there. Keeping them from moving on. If there is such a thing as moving on.

“...he’s me,” Wilbur says. He lifts his head and blows out a puff of smoke. It turns out a light blue rather than grey, curling and twisting like vines, mesmerized by the dance. “He needs to go back.”

_(“My first decree as the president- the EMPEROR- of this great nation is to revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit!”)_

When Wilbur finds the courage to look back, Ghostbur is gone.

He thought that would be it. Wilbur has long accepted his fate.

But after that, everything changed.

Wilbur’s body begins to flicker over time. As if there is a bad connection keeping him to the void. His hands glitch in and out of existence periodically and sometimes don’t return for what Wilbur believes to be hours. 

He thought this was just some new aspect of the void, one that only affected those who have overstayed their welcome.

That is until Wilbur began feeling his body being pulled away from the peace.

His eyelids feel warm, registering something different, new. There is no light or sound here in the afterlife, so what is it? Peeling his eyes open, Wilbur comes face to face with Ghostbur. He’s smiling brightly dressed in a yellow turtleneck sweater and black slacks. There is blue gushing from the gash in his abdomen and his once glowing eyes seem to have dulled considerably in color.

He looks different from Wilbur. He looks _free._ They are no longer the same person.

_(“DAD ISN’T COMING FOR US, TOMMY! WE’RE ON OUR OWN!”)_

“What are you doing here?” Wilbur croaks pushing himself off the ground. Ghostbur rubs his neck avoiding Wilbur’s scrutinizing gaze. “Well?”

“It’s time for you to go back. My time is up,” Ghostbur says. He clasps his hands together. “Our family needs you- us.”

“Oh, no no no,” he chuckles and runs a hand through his curls. Ghostbur tilts his head in confusion. And Wilbur _hates_ just how damn innocent he looks. Never having felt the burden of carrying a nation on his shoulders. Of seeing the hate and betrayal in the eyes of his loved ones. “I sent you up there for a reason. They don’t care about me.”

“You…” His eyes widened in shock. Had he seriously not known? “You sent me up there? But...but dad said something went wrong with the resurrection. I don’t understand-”

“His name is Phil,” Wilbur spat. His hands curl into fists. “And it went wrong because _I_ refuse to go back. They want you, not me.”

“But- they- they’ve done so much for us! They’ve protected us and loved us and-”

“They did all that for you. Not me. The difference between us is that I’m the one who died with all the blame. I’m the villain. But you know that already, don’t you?” Ghostbur flinches back. Wilbur grins. He leans forward until their noses almost bump. Red meets blue. “Yeah, I can see it in your eyes. You _remember_ the things we did. The people we hurt. There’s no future for me up there-”

He’s stopped by Ghostbur grabbing his hand.

_(“That guy, Tubbo? We love Tubbo. But he’s- he’s not on our side, is he?”)_

“What the fuck? Let go of me.”

“No,” Ghostbur narrows his eyes. “There is a future for us. Our family is waiting for us up there right now.”

_(“Tommy, none of us know what we’re doing. We’re fucked- we were fucked the minute we were thrown out.”)_

“They don’t care about me. They’ll tell you they did, but they didn’t. They never did,” Wilbur huffs, avoiding Ghostbur’s warm gaze. “I died so I could finally be at peace. I don’t want to go back up there.”

“So you’d let our family suffer?” Wilbur tenses up. Ghostbur’s smile has turned sad. It’s only now that Wilbur notices the white particles breaking off his limbs. He’s despawning. Is that why Wilbur had been glitching? 

“They’ll never be happy with me. I’m...I’m just a shell. I’m not the Wilbur they know and love. But neither are you. They need _both_ of us. I- I know that by bringing you up there with me, I’ll be gone. But, oddly enough, I’m not scared of death. I’ve cherished my time up there. What I am scared of, though, is making my family sad. So...please.”

_(“Pft- Tommy, you were never in charge.”)_

“I’m just going to hurt everyone again,” he protests weakly. Ghostbur closes his eyes as he hums thoughtfully. “That’s all I’ve ever done.”

“Maybe. But that’s just a part of the healing process, isn’t it? Phil gave me my second chance, and now it’s time I give you yours. So, live. Live. If not for yourself, then for the ones around you.” Tears made of solid blue slip down his cheeks.

“I don’t deserve this,” Wilbur whispers. He watches Ghostbur slowly begin to fade away in front of him, resigned to watch. His time is coming to an end.

“Then strive to become someone who does.” A blue orb emerges from Ghostbur’s chest floating between them. “You aren’t going to be abandoned again.”

_(“I wonder if Philza would be proud of me…”)_

Wilbur hesitates.

He slowly reaches out to the orb, feeling warmth begin to fill his cold body. A red orb appears from his own chest. The two near each other before once more combining to create purple. When the soul fits back into his body, a brilliant light overtakes his senses. Despite the light practically blinding Wilbur it wasn’t harsh. 

Rather it felt like the soft glow. One emitted from a comforting fire that warmed a cold cottage home in the winter. One that represents the hug of a family in the snow, shielding away from the horrors of the world.

_(“I won’t leave you, Wil.” Arms wrapped around him, a face tucked against his hair, tears trickling down his cheeks.)_

Wilbur comes face to face with Ghostbur as the lights fade away.

The world around him cracks as if someone had tossed a rock into a window.

“What-” The next thing Wilbur knows, his skin bursts, and a fluorescent green shines through the cracks. In a panic, he reaches out to Ghostbur, so many questions on his mind, the fear of returning to the world of the living suffocating him.

Ghostbur smiles.

_“Take care of Friend for me.”_

Just before their hands meet Wilbur has been violently yanked away. He watches the spirit wave goodbye alongside Schlatt.

The void shatters.

He falls into a pit of white. The lights attack from every angle leaving no escape. Wilbur squeezes his eyes shut, the overwhelming brightness causing tears to stream down his cheeks.

_“WILBUR!”_

It’s too much.

_(“Have you heard the song scribbled on the walls?”)_

_“WIL! WAKE UP!”_

He cries out. Begging for it all to stop. No one hears his screams.

_(“There- there was a special place but- but it’s not there anymore.”)_

_“COME BACK!”_

Make it stop it’s too loud too bright too much stop stop stop sto-

_(“It was never meant to be.”)_

Wilbur’s eyes fly open with a startled gasp

He keens over coughing, blood splattering onto the floor. He’s on his hands and knees, panting hard, trying to remember how breathing works.

Fuck, his head is killing him.

Alarmed shouts ring faintly in his ears. They sound so far away. He hacks up more blood and phlegm before it hits him.

He’s alive.

He’s fucking _alive._

Vaguely, Wilbur realizes someone is screaming. He slaps his hands over his ears. It’s too much. They won’t stop screaming. There’s too much happening. He thrashes about in the person’s hold. Why won’t they stop screaming? Why-

A vague _oh_ passes on the edge of his mind and he realizes the one screaming is him.

"Please," he gasps, voice croaky and rough, feeling as if his throat is made of sandpaper. It burns. "Please I- loud- loud so I- please I just-”

Something wet presses against his nose.

Blue.

How long has it been since he’s seen something other than darkness? He reaches up. His calloused fingers curl into soft wool, the creature nuzzles their noses together in the imitation of a kiss. They _baah_ quietly.

 _“Take care of Friend for me.”_ Ghostbur’s voice echoes in the back of Wilbur’s mind. 

He shakily wraps his arms around the sheep, hugging him close, burying his face in their blue coat. After an eternity, Wilbur lifts his head up. He blinks through the tears. It takes a few minutes until he can notice more defining features rather than just a vague outline of the ones watching.

"Wil..." Wilbur tenses up when a hand rests on his shoulder. He shuffles through the thousands of memories that circle about in his mind, his hands hovering at his sides, the words getting caught in his throat. "Do...do you remember me?"

_(“Wilby!” A boy who barely reaches his hip, a gap in his teeth, striped tail lashing behind him. “Wilby! Pick me up! I wanna be tall!”)_

_(“Do I shoot him Will, or do I aim for the skies?” A boy at his shoulder solemnly asks, a bow clutched in his trembling hands, smiling when his hair is ruffled.”)_

_(“Wh- I didn’t call you Wilbly- I’m not a child anymore!” A teenager who has lost his youth, his hands bandaged and pouting indignantly, blue eyes carrying the entire sky. “Hey! Hey, dickhead! Stop laughing!”)_

_(“Please don't do this, you don't have to blow this all up, Wilbur,” a broken-hearted rebel pleads, clinging onto his hand, the one who always wore his heart on his sleeve.)_

_(“WILBUR!” His brother stands amidst the destruction, clutching a bleeding arm to his chest, the betrayal and hurt evident in his eyes.)_

“T...Toms..?”

Wilbur reaches a hand out.

The boy in front of him slowly changes into a hardened teenager, his hair pulled back into a small ponytail, scars from the countless battles he’s survived. The world has been cruel. But Wilbur could never forget his little brother.

Tommy breaks out into a teary smile. He pulls Wilbur into a crushing hug. Wilbur sits in frozen shock. His eyes widen when he hears quiet sobs. When is the last time since he felt the touch of another? This is wrong. Why is Tommy hugging him? After everything he’s done why- why does he still _care?_

It hits him all at once.

He isn’t cold. He isn’t _cold._

Choking back a sob, Wilbur curls around Tommy as best he can in the tight hold, running his fingers through overgrown, blond curls. He savors the warmth leeching onto the heat before it could slip away. He feels the cold slowly leave his heart. "I'm so sorry..." He whispers. Clumsily pressing a kiss to Tommy's head. "I'm so sorry..."

Bit by bit, the soul that he believed had been torn beyond redemption began repairing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo alivebur do be alive again tho  
> alternative title: Ding Dong The Wicked Witch Is Back
> 
> totem translations:  
> Y𝙹⚍∷ ∴╎ᓭ⍑ ╎ᓭ ⊣∷ᔑリℸ ̣ ᒷ↸, ʖ∷𝙹ꖌᒷリ 𝙹リᒷ - Your wish is granted, Broken One  
> D𝙹 リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑᓭℸ ̣ ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ᓵ⍑ᔑリᓵᒷ ᔑℸ ̣ ꖎ╎⎓ᒷ - Do not waste this chance at life
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	24. its not the same

With a deep sigh, Wilbur glances around the attic. The few pieces of furniture up here are rustic and made of spruce. The windowsill is decorated with vibrant cushions that come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Wilbur can vividly imagine nights spent staring at the stars, recounting on old memories and new, a sheep hugged to his chest. 

On every shelf, there is a book, not a single one out of place, categorized by cover rather. It seems his ghost was a collector. Wilbur skims his fingers along the spines. A few titles he recognized from Techno’s library. He wonders just how long until the man realizes they’re missing. The idea makes him smirk.

A quilt is laid neatly over the bed, lovingly hand-stitched. Wilbur glances at his hands. He eyes the pale scars that never faded from nights spent learning how to sew, accidentally stabbing his hands raw with a needle. Furs folded by the headboard used on particularly cold nights. There’s a slight indent of Wilbur’s head on the pillow.

Wilbur gently plucks a pair of circular glasses off the nightstand. They are light in his hands, the lens unblemished, unlike his old pair.

Everything in this room consists of a happy memory.

Wilbur feels as if he’s intruding on something personal. Private. Something that will never be his, but always was.

He violently shucks off the bloodied yellow sweater. Blue has permanently stained the fabric where he had been stabbed. Wilbur tosses it aside without another glance. He digs through the dresser finding a clean grey sweatshirt. The wool scratches his skin and is snug around his torso. Wilbur can’t remember the last time an article of clothing fit him. Having been severely malnourished in Pogtopia.

Wilbur is about to close the dresser when his eyes spot something brown and black. Tucked far away never to see the light again.

With shaking hands, Wilbur pulls the trenchcoat. He dusts off the dust that has collected over the months. There are dark stains forever embedded in the tattered material. He presses his forehead against the coat. His breathing wavers. It still smells of nicotine and gunpowder. For a moment, Wilbur lets himself get lost in the memories.

The memories of another life.

He barely reacts when the trapdoor lifts followed by a grunt.

“You good? Phil was worried you might’ve passed out again or something,” Techno says. Wilbur can feel his piercing gaze on his back. “Wil-”

“Why am I alive?”

Wilbur traces the torn off patch on the sleeve.

His hands are a light grey that fades off into his natural skin color mid-forearm. A rather annoying side effect of the resurrection. Wilbur tries not to focus on how his hands are numb. Feeling nothing as he pinches and prods at the abnormally cold skin. He slowly blinks when he ends up cutting the skin, blood trickling from the fresh wound. He can’t even feel it.

A few golden curls fall over his eyes. Another unfortunate result. Wilbur absentmindedly twirls the strands around his finger. The strands are soft just like the rest of his hair, yet shimmer in the light like a golden ingot. He sighs. 

Too much of his body has changed. It feels as if he’s wearing a pair of shoes that are just a couple of sizes too large. 

“You know why, Wil,” Techno sighs. The trapdoor quietly shuts.

_(“YOU’RE MY SON!”)_

Wilbur swallows a lump in his throat.

He busies himself with tugging on a pair of fingerless gloves off the desk. The less he saw his hands the better. He’d rather not be reminded of his failed suicide attempt every second. He flexes his hands a few times and readjusts his sleeves. “...I’m sorry.” Techno blinks taken by surprise. Wilbur shuffles his weight from foot to foot. There are so many things to apologize for, but he hopes the point gets across.

“Uh…” Techno awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “It’s...it’s fine. I kinda deserved most of it.”

“Yeah,” Wilbur chuckles only to keel over coughing. An arm quickly wraps around his shoulders and waist steadying him. “Fine, Techno.”

“Last time you said that you died.” Techno huffs.

“Fuck you.” Wilbur bites back a smile when a tail slaps against his hands. “I’m- good. Here.”

Techno hops down and holds his arms up. His hands steady Wilbur as he shakily climbs down the ladder, trenchcoat and yellow sweater carried over his shoulder, his wings flapping helplessly in the air when he almost slips. “I think Phil’s making dinner if-”

“Are you guys alright? You two were up there for a long time.” Wilbur stiffens when Phil comes over. Phil and Techno make eye contact, something unspoken being said.

“Burn these,” Wilbur interrupts, voice hoarse and scratching its way out of his throat. “They- not mine. Not. Not anymore.” He stumbles over his words. Rather than protesting, Phil smiles gently and takes the clothes in his arms. Wilbur takes Techno’s tail back in his hands, fiddling with the pink tuft, a new habit his damn ghost started that Wilbur unfortunately kept.

“‘Course,” Phil explains. Just when Wilbur thought the conversation to be over, Phil speaks again, softer this time. “I’m...I’m sorry. I just...I was selfish. I failed you as a father. And I…” Slowly, a hand lifts. Wilbur tracks his movements warily. His muscles tense when Phil cups his cheek but he doesn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry, Wil. But I meant what I said. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done- you’ll still be my son. It’s my fault I wasn’t there for you.”

“I...wanted rest…” Wilbur whispers. He slightly leans into his father’s touch. A wing comes to wrap around his shoulders. “I’m...tired, Phil. I hurt many and I...don’t regret it...I…”

“I know. I know, Wil. But you gotta stay with us- just for a little longer. You’ll come back from this.”

“I didn’t hate you-” Wilbur whispers barely audible over all the noise. “Wanted someone to- to blame but...my fault...and I…” He scrubs at his eyes. “I don’t- Ghostbur _adored_ you and...old me bitter. But now? I’m not sure.”

“We’ll figure it out together, okay? For now, we’ll take it one day at a time.” His eyes instinctively shut when a hand affectionately tousles his curls. “Do you want to eat dinner by yourself? I know Tommy can be...overwhelming.”

Wilbur knows an olive branch when he sees it. He easily could retreat into the attic never to show his face again. Maybe he could escape out the window in the middle of the night, finding a way off the server to start a new life, a new identity. No one would know who is. There’d be no expectations held over his head. No ghosts from the past to follow him.

From the kitchen, Wilbur hears laughter. Tommy and Ranboo’s to be specific. Past the doorframe, he can see the two teens struggling to make dinner, the pots nearly overboiling. Techno sees this as well and quickly clocks Tommy over the head. The two argue with each other for a minute, both smiling, relaxed. Ranboo notices Wilbur staring offering a small wave.

“...sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i miss writing ghostbur because now i have to emo and edgy /j  
> also for anyone curious the way wilbur's mind is reacting is if he had been in a coma so he has to relearn how to exist in a real body
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	25. Lads On Tour

It’s cold, Techno thought, instinctively pulling Wilbur to his side.

The man doesn’t protest as Techno wraps his cape around them both. The scent of approaching rain hangs in the air. He watches the sky darken and the colors fade away as morning fully arrives. His ears flick when a drop of rain hits his nose. A storm is coming their way. “We go. Now.”

“Why, Wil?” Techno prompts softly. He glances to the cottage. The other three are most likely still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the danger coming their way. Wilbur exhales long and heavy.

“Dangerous,” Wilbur mumbles, his fingers twitching around his arm. “It- something wrong. Totem...says so.”

Techno blinks.

**_can he hear us?_ **

_t̵w̶i̵n̵s̸ ̸t̷e̸c̶h̵n̴o̵ ̸i̴s̸n̵t̷ ̶a̸l̶o̸n̴e̴ ̴p̶o̸g̷!̷!̴_

“Think...still tied to-” he waves his hand around. “Void. I can feel it. Creating space.”

“Right…” Techno sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. He had hoped for more time than this. Phil is still recovering from his injuries and it’s only been a day since Wilbur’s been resurrected. None of them are in a condition for a trip like this, but Techno knows better than to sit idly by. They have too many enemies on the server, and if there’s the slightest chance he can avoid death then he’ll take it. “I can get us ready in a couple of hours. Are you sure you’re alright for the trip?”

Wilbur nods. “And...you’re sure you wanna stay.” Another nod. “Right. Go get Tommy and Ranboo, I’ll get Phil. Make sure to pack as much food as you can.”

* * *

The north is unforgiving.

The winds biting and savage, the storm only growing stronger throughout the day, frostbite and hypothermia a constant threat. Thankfully, Techno has noticed that seasons on the server move quicker than others. To a keen eye such as his, one can see new buds form on old trees and grass growing under weaker patches of snow. He figures that in a month or so spring will start rolling in.

They’ve decided to settle down for the night in a cave just bordering another spruce forest. 

“If we keep up this pace, we’ll reach the world border in a few days,” Phil says, boiling a couple of rabbits Tommy caught for dinner. He adds another log onto the fire. Techno will have to go chop down a few more trees before dawn or else they’ll run low on supplies.

“I can’t wait to get out of this fucking place,” Tommy grumbles. His voice echoes off the walls and he sneezes. He huddles further into his cape. “It’s too cold. And wet.”

“You’re the one who volunteered to go hunting,” Techno points out. He hands a few potatoes to Phil. Ranboo sits criss-cross beside Wilbur completely focused on cutting the brown mushrooms they managed to find along the way. Occasionally, his concentration breaks when he accidentally cuts his fingers or when his cat, Enderchest, tries stealing a mushroom. “You’re just mad we left early.”

**_lmanburg is coming dream is coming must run ditch them all run run run_ **

_W̸e̵ ̷a̴g̶r̷e̵e̶ ̸w̷a̵k̵i̷n̷g̵ ̵u̶p̸ ̸e̵a̴r̸l̵y̴ ̴i̶s̸ ̷l̴a̴m̶e̴_

“The sun wasn’t even _up_ , Technoblade!” He groans flopping onto the floor dramatically. Tommy quickly sits back up when he realizes just how cold the ground is. The cape is drawn around him further. “I need my beauty sleep! How else are all the ladies gonna love me?”

“What ladies?” Ranboo looks up, genuinely confused, his nose scrunching. Enderchest has climbed onto his shoulders now staring at Tommy with bright yellow eyes. Another cat, Jeffery, has inched his way over to paw curiously at the makeshift chopping board.

“Shut up ran-bow.” When he thought Techno wasn’t looking, Ranboo tossed a sliced mushroom at Tommy’s face. “Hey! Did you see that?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Techno holds his hand behind his back giving Ranboo a sneaky high five. He lightly bats away _another_ cat that tries playing with his tail. Thankfully, Ranboo’s other pets are asleep in the cart with their chests. “I’m completely innocent here.”

“Oh, that’s it, you tall bastard-”

“Boys,” Phil says. A fond smile on his face. The two ignore him and continue bickering. He takes the stack of mushrooms mixing them into the stew. “Wil, in that bag behind you there’s the ladles- thanks mate. Oh, and also the- there we go.”

Techno glances around. It’s strange. Just months ago he would have rather fought a hundred withers than allow people into his house. 

Now, he can’t imagine a life without them.

* * *

Techno unslings the trident from his back. The water is cold around his legs, almost freezingly so. Below the ruffled water surface is small, barely a dart of silver under the early morning sun, yet swift fish that follow the current. He has never been a fan of traditional fishing. It took too much time. Time he didn’t have to spend.

In one swift movement, he strikes. The water barely ripples as his trident strikes. He pulls off the fish he caught and tosses them to the shore.

“Shit- give me a warning next time!” Tommy catches the fish in his arms and dumps them into his bag.

“You were spacing out,” Techno grunts rolling his sleeves back up. “Gonna talk about it?”

**_say no say no say no say no_ **

_b̴o̴n̸d̴i̸n̸g̵ ̶t̵i̴m̴e̵ ̵l̴a̷m̶e̴ ̴w̷e̷ ̷w̵a̴n̷n̷a̷ ̷f̵i̴g̶h̸t̶ ̷s̴t̴u̶f̷f̸_

“Am I doing the right thing?” He grips the compass around his neck. He asked Phil to craft him a chain necklace to carry it around easier. Never wanting it off his person. “Leaving L’manburg- leaving _Tubbo_ behind. He’s my best friend. I know he’s done a lot of stuff but...I’m still gonna care about him…If I could forgive you guys I think I can forgive him. I think I already have I just...”

“You can always go back, you know. No one’s stopping you,” Techno points out calmly. Because it’s true. While he doesn’t agree with L’manburg or how Tubbo has been running things, he isn’t going to say what Tommy can or can’t do. He climbs out from the river using his cape to off before slipping his boots back on.

“I know...I know…” His dirt-smudged fingers trace along the compass’s rim. The red arrow forever pointing south. “Maybe...maybe Ranboo and I can take a trip. Once we’ve settled down.”

“Up to you. Think that’s enough?”

“I dunno, man. You know how much Wilbur loves fish. And we got the cats to feed.”

Techno nods. He turns and strikes again catching two larger fish this time in one go. “This enough?” A smirk grows at Tommy’s annoyed expression.

“Show-off. I can do that too, yah know!”

“Then get in the river.”

“Fuck no it’s too cold.”

* * *

After a grueling nine days of navigating a snowy forest, mountain ranges, and open plains, they finally reach the ocean, vast and clear. Waves lap along on the sandy shores, kissing their boots and leaving a foamy trail in its wake. The warm sand glitters under the sun sticking to his soles. The breeze blows the tension right out of his bones. He can see dolphins swimming about in the clear depths, their calls mixing in with the cries of seagulls flying overhead.

Techno squints and holds a hand over his eyes. He takes a deep breath.

Just a few days on the sea and they’ll reach their destination.

Wilbur and Phil descend the beach to set up the boats. Techno watches Tommy sprint their way. Once in a while, Tommy lets out a flurry of swears when the sand shifts unevenly underneath his feet, testing his balance, flipping Wilbur off when he starts making fun of him at the sight. Friend bounces after them, kicking up sand as they go, lost in his little world.

“I’ve never seen the ocean before…” Ranboo’s quiet, awe-struck voice sounds from his right. He stands by Techno’s side with his eyes closed. The breeze sends his two-toned curls flying about his head, the sun leaving a warm glow along his freckled skin. “I’ve always lived in-land. Or, at least, that’s what I remember. This...wow.”

Techno remembers the first time he saw the ocean. He had been so caught up in his selfish pursuit of revenge that he hadn’t cared enough. He lost many firsts to his obsession. Having missed out on so many of life’s gifts. “Thank you. For letting me stay. I-I know it just kinda got shoved on you with everything that was going on and I know my pets can be a lot and-”

“I don’t mind having you around,” Techno interrupts the kid’s panicked rambles. “Yer a good kid. You showed that back at L’manburg.”

“I just...I value my friends more than a country,” Ranboo admits softly. His tail wraps itself around his leg and he rubs his arm. “I-I’m gonna go back. I am. But...I’d like to stay with you all. Just a little longer. If that’s alright.”

“Well.” He scratches the back of his head. “You’ve already followed us all the way out here. And if I ditched you know Philza would have my head on a stick. He’s practically adopted you at this point.”

“He-” the kid cuts off into a choked warble. “I called him dad _once_. And it was an accident.”

**_betray betray theyll betray us all kill them kill_ **

_w̵e̴ ̴l̴i̶k̴e̸ ̵t̵h̶i̴s̷ ̸o̵n̴e̶ ̶w̶e̴ ̴s̶h̵o̶u̵l̸d̸ ̶a̷d̵o̷p̸t̴ ̴h̸i̷m̵ ̸b̶e̵f̷o̴r̶e̷ ̴d̸a̸d̷z̷a̵ ̸c̵a̸n̵_

Techno hums in disbelief. He hears Ranboo sputter beside him. “It- it’s true!”

“YOU GUUUUUYS!” Tommy shouts across the shoreline. His upper half is hanging off the edge of a boat, hands cupped around his mouth, Wilbur holding onto his tail to keep him from falling. “COME OOOOON!”

“Talk about it with Phil,” Techno says. He starts heading towards the boat, the sand shifting underneath him, footprints being left behind. “Just gonna throw out an ‘I told you so’ in advance.”

* * *

The world border is a giant bounding box that stretches infinitely in every direction.

The diagonal, narrow stripes that slice through the air are a translucent aqua color that moves on their own before his eyes. On the other side lies an entirely untouched world. The forest on the edge of the world is the strangest thing Techno has ever experienced. Birds appear to fly slower than normal and the trees take on a strange appearance, like they are made of thousands of tiny squares. There is a point when everything stops.

“What now?” Phil looks unphased by his surroundings. Techno made sure the others stayed in the forest in case something went wrong. “What are the voices saying?”

**_break it break it brea kit b reak it b rea k i tt_ **

_E̵E̷E̶E̷E̴E̸E̴E̶E̸E̸E̵E̵E̸E̴E̵E̷E̷E̶E̷E̵E̸E̷E̵E̸E̴E̶E̶E̸E̶E̶_

“Nothing helpful,” Techno sighs, scratching his head. “Got any ideas?”

“Nope. World borders are impenetrable. Admins use them for a reason.” Phil knocks his fist against the wall. It ripples under his touch as if made of water but otherwise completely solid. “We should have gotten an operator onto our side. I’m sure there’s someone on this server who’s just as fed up with Dream.”

“We didn’t have the time. I don’t want to take any risks, Phil.”

“I know, I know. Should we make camp? See if anything changes?”

**_BREAK IT BREAK IT BREAK IT BREAK IT_ **

**_E̵E̷E̶E̷E̴E̸E̴E̶E̸E̸E̵E̵E̸E̴E̵E̷E̷E̶E̷E̵E̸E̷E̵E̸E̴E̶E̶E̸E̶E̶E̵E̷E̶E̷E̴E̸E̴E̶E̸E̸E̵E̵E̸E̴E̵E̷E̷E̶E̷E̵E̸E̷E̵E̸E̴E̶E̶E̸E̶E̶_ **

“You guys- stop it-” he presses a hand to his forehead hissing against the throbbing. Chat’s shrieks only grow louder. Phil’s hands grasp his shoulders, steadying him. “They just- they keep saying break it I don’t- _how?”_

**_DESTROY SM ASH B RE AK NO M O R E BREA KF REE NON E CAN ST OP THE BLOO D G O D_ **

**_B̸L̵O̷O̷D̴ ̸F̷O̸R̷ ̷T̸H̵E̴ ̸B̶L̸O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̷O̵D̵ ̶B̶L̸O̷O̷D̶ ̴F̴O̵R̷ ̷T̷H̵E̷ ̴B̸L̴O̵O̷D̸ ̶G̷O̵D̵_ **

“Can you guys say something else?! That doesn’t help!”

**_B̸L̵O̷O̷D̴ ̸F̷O̸R̷ ̷T̸H̵E̴ ̸B̶L̸O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̷O̵D̵ ̶B̶L̸O̷O̷D̶ ̴F̴O̵R̷ ̷T̷H̵E̷ ̴B̸L̴O̵O̷D̸ ̶G̷O̵D̵B̸L̵O̷O̷D̴ ̸F̷O̸R̷ ̷T̸H̵E̴ ̸B̶L̸O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̷O̵D̵ ̶B̶L̸O̷O̷D̶ ̴F̴O̵R̷ ̷T̷H̵E̷ ̴B̸L̴O̵O̷D̸ ̶G̷O̵D̵B̸L̵O̷O̷D̴ ̸F̷O̸R̷ ̷T̸H̵E̴ ̸B̶L̸O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̷O̵D̵ ̶B̶L̸O̷O̷D̶ ̴F̴O̵R̷ ̷T̷H̵E̷ ̴B̸L̴O̵O̷D̸ ̶G̷O̵D̵B̸L̵O̷O̷D̴ ̸F̷O̸R̷ ̷T̸H̵E̴ ̸B̶L̸O̶O̴D̵ ̴G̷O̵D̵ ̶B̶L̸O̷O̷D̶ ̴F̴O̵R̷ ̷T̷H̵E̷ ̴B̸L̴O̵O̷D̸ ̶G̷O̵D̵_ **

“STOP IT!”

Techno punches the closest thing in front of him. His hand should hurt. It should bounce back red and throbbing. That doesn't happen though. His hand goes right through the world border as if it were a paper box. Techno’s eyes widen and he stumbles forward catching himself on the edge. “What…”

“You…” Phil taps the world border. It doesn’t move. “You punched it.”

“I punched it.” Techno dryly repeats.

**_BREAK IT BREAK IT BREAK IT BREAK IT BREAK IT_ **

**_B̸L̸O̸O̶D̶ ̴F̶O̶R̴ ̵T̷H̵E̷ ̸B̴L̵O̸O̶D̶ ̴G̸O̴D̵ ̶P̵O̴G̴ ̵P̵O̸G̴ ̶T̵E̴C̶H̸N̸O̴S̴T̶R̷O̶N̸G̸ ̷T̷E̵C̷H̴N̸O̶B̷L̷A̷D̸E̵ ̷N̸E̸V̶E̸R̴ ̵D̸I̷E̵S̶ ̶B̷L̸O̵O̴D̸ ̵F̴O̶R̷ ̴T̷H̵E̵ ̷B̴L̵O̶O̷D̴ ̴G̶O̸D̵ ̵_ **

He takes his other arm and rips the sides, peeling them back creating a hole large enough for people to slip in.

“Techno-”

Before Phil can stop him, Techno is stepping through the hole. He takes a few tentative steps forward over the threshold. He flips his hands over. Nothing. He doesn’t feel any different. “I think it’s safe, Phil.”

After a couple of minutes, he hears the grass crunch underfoot, and soon Phil is standing by his side. He rolls his shoulders a few times letting his wings stretch. The feathers flutter in the warm breeze, a hand holding his hat down.

“How did you even do that?” Phil asks followed by an excited laugh. “I mean- you just- you _punched_ the world border.”

“I don’t know?” Techno stares at his hand. He flexes his fingers. “Maybe it got weaker because I killed Dream. That’s...it’s the only thing I can think of. Chat isn’t any help. If they had their way I’d destroy the entire thing.”

“I think just one hole is good enough for now. Come on, let's get the others.”

* * *

It felt like entering a tunnel to another world.

A place where not a single soul would ever know you'd ever left, not even yourself. An entire world untouched by mankind and any higher powers above, created with the intention of peace and harmony, silence and birdsong melding together in a symphony. 

The forest they find themselves traveling through is a living portrait, golden rays of sunlight peeking past cracks in the thick leaves, rich brown earthen hues laying their path.

There are the birds above, calling for grubs, singing a harmony sweeter than any song. There is a scurry of mammals, mostly small, sometimes not, across the forest floor. Techno has never seen so many passive mobs collect in one place. At one point a family of foxes followed them, yipping when given spare sweet berries as a treat. A swarm of bees meanders past buzzing about their heads. One, in particular, rests in Tommy’s cupped hands, an unfamiliar crossing his face. 

Wilbur lays his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. His head lifts. Their eyes meet. No words are spoken, but an entire conversation is held between the brothers. They continue moving.

“Wait,” Techno holds his hand up. “I think we’re entering another biome. It’s starting to open up.”

He navigates over fallen branches and thick bushes before reaching their destination.

Wildflowers plentifully grow as far as the eye can see- rainbow freckles adorning the green backdrop. Every hue one could ever imagine has all gathered here. The area holds a casual elegance Techno has never felt anywhere else. It’s as if the forest is aware of its unique beauty and has tucked itself away far from the eyes of others.

Above them, high branches weave tunnels of green leaves like archways to protect them from the strong sunlight. He can see a clear blue sky above that tells of good weather to come. The air itself is rich with the fragrance of leaves and flowers. His ears perk up. He carefully makes his way across the meadow, careful not to disrupt the flowerbeds and growing mushrooms. 

Nearby, a river weaves through the forest. It is a part of this place just as much as everything else, welcoming any stray flora along its way, yet also a thing unto itself. A ribbon of living turquoise boldly flowing amidst the ethereal forest. Fish swim along the currents taking on colors and scales Techno has never seen before.

Techno steps back into the meadow finding everyone has already begun setting up a camp.

“Here,” Techno speaks for the first time upon entering. All heads turn to him. He can already visualize a cottage being built amongst the foliage, a fence surrounding the perimeter so the animals could roam free, a large garden built to house crops and flowers alike. The river is close enough where they wouldn’t need a well, and have an endless supply of fish. 

“We’ll make our new home here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they really out here living their cottagecore dreams huh
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	26. You And I Against The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this chapter while listening to in a week by hozier which helps the mood

Foundations for the future house were set in motion. 

Wilbur designs a rough idea with a list of materials they would need throughout the building process. Hauling buckets of clay and mud had been less than pleasant. Techno had, quite literally, pulled the short stick on that job. At least he has the memory of Phil’s horrified face upon dropping a pile of wet grass, mud, and weeds on his head. Techno got the shit kicked out of him, but it was all worth it.

It was the first time Wilbur laughed since his resurrection. He didn’t stop laughing for hours, bursting into giggles every time he saw Phil, his eyes carrying a youthful glow everyone thought he had lost.

After a few hours of everyone working together, the foundation had been completed as night fell. A variety of stones Ranboo collected were held together by dried and packed in mud. The stone floor was smoothed over with an extra thick layer of clay so it wouldn’t cave in. A set of stairs leading up to the porch had been added raising the main platform off the ground. They didn’t want to risk creeper explosions, or other unknown mobs destroying the house.

That night they slept in the unfinished house around a dying campfire. Ranboo and Tommy slept in one corner huddled together under their capes and extra blankets. It took a lot of coaxing to get Phil to sleep, sticking by Wilbur’s side. Techno guarded the cottage the entire night, just in case, and caught Wilbur awake as well.

“Can’t feel…” Wilbur whispers, staring into the fire that burns his fingers, having slipped away without disturbing Phil. “Still...feel dead.”

**_weak weak leave him behind hold us back no will no life_ **

_ h̷o̶l̷y̶ ̷s̴h̴i̸t̶ ̵i̴t̶s̸ ̷a̷ ̶z̴o̸m̸b̴i̸e̷ ̷t̸h̶e̸ ̵a̶p̷o̷c̴a̶l̴y̴p̷s̸e̸ ̷i̷s̸ ̵u̵p̶o̴n̸ ̸u̷s̴ ̸c̸h̸a̴t̷ ̴h̶o̷l̶d̷ ̶h̶a̷n̶d̴s̶ _

“I know, Wil,” Techno sighs. He coaxes Wilbur away, the two sitting on the unfinished porch looking out over the forest, bandaging the newly burnt fingers. “We’ll get there.”

_ (“...Techno? You...aren’t going to leave...are you?” _

_ “I won’t leave you, Wil.”) _

That morning, Techno sets out before the others have awoken, a bow slung over his back. The forest is almost still, the morning mist cold upon his skin, filling his air with fresh air. The sky is in the process of waking up itself with patches of blue slipping past the dreary grey clouds.

Movement in his field of vision has him stopping in his tracks.

Techno lifts his arm. He draws back a nocked arrow, aiming past the trees. A deer grazes about unaware of the hunter. 

_ Breathe in _

Its head turns, black eyes staring into Techno’s, a familiar feeling filling his bones. His grip tightens around the bow.

The Blood God hungers. And he is but a simple servant.

_ Release _

There is a whistle of air splitting. A thunk of an arrow hitting the dirt.

The deer sprints off leaving behind only hoofprints in the dirt. Techno lowers his bow and stands glaring into the mist. A blur of red and white descends from the trees. Tommy waves cheerily at Techno.

“Tommy!” Techno shouts. He watches his fluffy ears perk up at his name. He opens his mouth to speak but sees the bushes rustle behind Tommy.

In one swift move, the bow is lifted once more and an arrow is shot through the air. Tommy yelps when it flies past his head. “What the fuck, Technoblade?! Are you trynna kill me?”

“No,” he climbs over the tree roots. Tommy watches him suspiciously when Techno reaches into a bush pulling out a dead rabbit with an arrow sticking out of it. He dusts dirt and dead leaves off its hide. “Just catching breakfast.”

“You could’ve killed me! I only have one life, yah know. I bet you’d feel real shit if I died, huh?”

“One less mouth to feed.” Techno stuffs the rabbit into his inventory alongside the mushrooms and berries he’s found. Thankfully, Techno has survived in the wildlife long enough to know his way around forageables. Maybe he can find a few bird eggs to add since deer is no longer an option.

“Hey, fuck you! I’m a great asset to this team,” Tommy scrabbles to catch up when Techno starts walking. He picks a handful of stinging nettles, careful not to sting himself in the process. “We never would’ve made this far without me.”

“Hah?”

**_we broke the border we are stronger we are undefeated_ **

_ F̶I̵G̸H̸T̵ ̸F̶I̵G̶H̵T̷ ̶F̴I̸G̶H̶T̴ ̴F̵I̵G̶H̵T̵ _

Tommy walks backward so he’s facing Techno, long striped tail swishing about behind him. He somehow manages to avoid tripping over all the roots and his own feet. “Hey, since we’re building a new place can I have my own room? Ranboo sleepwalks and it’s annoying as shit. And did you know he has no eyelids? Yeah! Scariest shit I’ll have you know.”

“It was your idea to bunk with him,” Techno calmly points out used to how quickly Tommy shifts topics by now. “And if you want a room, you’ll have to build it yourself.”

“Fine! That just means I’m gonna have the largest room. It’s gonna be so huge all you guys are gonna be jealous,” he grins victoriously. “So what’s for breakfast?”

“It was gonna be venison sausages, but we’ll have to settle for rabbit stew again.” Tommy groans dramatically steering around a tree. “It’s your fault for chasing away the deer.”

“It’s your fault you weren’t fast enough!”

**_he is not wrong_ **

_ F̴I̵G̸H̶T̷ ̶F̵I̴G̸H̶T̸ ̵F̷I̴G̶H̸T̸ ̷F̸I̸G̸H̴T̷ _

“Tommy.”

“Yeah?”

“You have three seconds for a head start,” Techno smirks at Tommy’s annoyed expression. “Three.”

“That is  _ not _ fair! I didn’t do anything, asshole!”

“Two.”

Without warning, the teen takes off disappearing through the trees. Techno waits another second before following at a much slower pace. He’s fairly certain everyone is awake by now. Maybe Ranboo can join him in exploring the forest and any neighboring biomes. He needs to craft fishing nets as well to take advantage of the river.

“Tommy!” Techno calls spying a head of blonde hair amidst the foliage. “Are you seriously tired already? Or are you gonna try jumping on me again and-”

When Techno reaches Tommy he sees what has stopped the boy. He spawns in his netherite sword and shield preparing for a fight. Wilbur was right- they weren’t safe. He knew he shouldn’t have let his guard down. His eyes dart around the glade searching for any other enemies.

“...Tommy?”

Tubbo whispers, his voice shaking and shattering on the single word. 

His neat presidential uniform has been reduced to just a stained white dress shirt, a half-burnt red tie, and black pants with one leg cropped to his knees. He’s bleeding from his arm. His blonde roots are showing and there are heavy eye bags that rival Techno’s. Which is saying something considering Techno hasn’t slept in three days. There is soot, burn marks, and scratches on every inch of skin.

**_KILL HIM PRESIDENT GOVERNMENT BAD EVIL KILL HIM MAKE HIM PAY FOR WHAT HE DID_ **

_ r̸e̸u̶n̵i̴o̸n̶ ̴p̵o̸g̶?̶?̸ ̷c̴l̶i̵n̴g̵y̵t̸w̵t̵ ̴i̶s̵ ̶t̵h̶r̴i̴v̴i̷n̷g̷?̴?̶?̸ ̷H̸E̷ ̵H̸U̷R̴T̸ ̸P̸H̷I̷L̴ ̸K̶I̷L̵L̶ ̷H̷I̶M̷ ̷n̸o̴o̸o̸ ̵d̷a̶d̷z̷a̵ ̷w̴o̴u̵l̸d̵n̸'̸t̶ ̷w̵a̷n̸t̴ ̷t̶h̷a̵t̸ ̴ _

But his blue eyes never stray from Tommy. An enchanted compass is held tightly in one hand. The red arrow pointing straight at Tommy who has not moved an inch.

Tommy stares with wide eyes, a hand grasping the matching compass hanging from his neck, bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

“You…” He takes a shaky step forward. “Tubbo…”

And then Tubbo is sprinting, tears spilling down over rapidly reddening cheeks, screaming out Tommy’s name. He trips over his feet as he scrambles to get to his best friend but his pace never lets up. Tommy races to meet Tubbo stretching his arms out as far as they’ll go.

They collide halfway throwing themselves into each other’s arms with sobs and laughter ringing out in the small clearing, both screaming the other’s name.

Tommy wraps his arms around Tubbo waist scooping him off the ground while Tubbo throws his arms around Tommy’s neck. The two spin around in a circle a few times. Their foreheads butt together, one of Tommy’s hands burying itself in Tubbo’s hair, falling into a world of their making. Tubbo’s small tail is wagging happily whereas Tommy’s purring loudly.

After the initial burst of energy leaves them both, Tommy sets Tubbo back onto solid ground, sharing a bone-crushing hug. Tubbo stands on his toes with his chin hooked over Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy tucking his face against Tubbo’s neck gulping for air as the last of his tears subside.

“Tommy!” Tubbo cries, his fingers curling tighter into Tommy’s t-shirt as if he’d disappear at any given moment. “Tommy- I- I’m so  _ sorry! _ I’m so sorry I- never should’ve- I-”

“I’m the one who should be sorry!” Tommy swallows back his own sobs. “I never listened and I- I know why you did it, Tubbo, and I’m- I’m  _ so _ sorry man. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tubbo chokes on another sob, tears streaming even faster down his face, wet stains being left on Tommy’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean any of it I- you mean to the world to me-”

When Tubbo tries to speak his voice falters into unintelligible croaks and hiccups. He pulls back pawing at his face trying to scrub away all the tears and snot.

Despite everything, Tommy’s bittersweet smile turns into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the sides. His eyes are the warmest Techno has ever seen. He butts their foreheads together once again. Tubbo sniffs, face red from all his crying, but he levels Tommy back with the softest smile possible. “I’ve missed you, man.”

“I…” His burn-scarred hands find Tommy’s grasping onto them tightly and holding them to his chest. “I’m so sorry…”

“Stop apologizin’ I get it already,” Tommy laughs, genuine and breathy, his tail swishing happily. He steps back fully taking in Tubbo’s state. The joy on his face quickly morphs into concern. “What- what the fuck happened to you, Tubbo?! Techno, do you have any potions of healing on you? Shit- you’re  _ bleeding _ !”

“Wh…” Tubbo turns and his eyes comically widen upon spotting Techno awkwardly standing by the trees. “Oh. Hello, Technoblade. Um. I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“...are you sure we can trust him, Tommy?” Techno asks warily. Tommy levels him with a dark glare. He sighs. There’s no point getting into an argument now. “Alright, alright. Here,” ignoring Chat’s loud disapproval, Techno holds a pink potion out to Tubbo. “I got burn cream back at the camp. Anyone else with you? Anyone at all?”

“Uh- n-no, just me. Thank you.” With shaking hands Tubbo takes the potion. Some of the scratches and light bruising fade into his skin until they disappear. “After seeing your cottage empty, I wasn’t...I didn’t know if I’d find you again. I wasn’t even sure where the compass was pointing me. But then I saw that you- you broke the  _ world border _ ! And I knew- I knew only you guys would do that and- I knew I did the right thing and I-”

“Why were you looking for me?” Tommy gently interrupts Tubbo’s rambling. He sucks in a sharp breath. A hand grasps his shoulder to steady him. “Seriously, how did you even make it all the way out here?”

Tubbo blinks owlishly at Tommy. If not for all his crying earlier Techno is certain he would be crying now, a crestfallen look overtaking him.

“Dream...he- he blew up L’manburg. He- he took the disc from me, Tommy, I had no choice- I- he’s won. He...it’s...it’s all  _ gone. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you know raccoons purr when theyre happy? little raccoon fact of the day
> 
> ~~Also according to Ao3 statistics, only a small percentage of people reading this fic actually comment/leave kudos. Please do. It's free and I highly appreciate it.~~
> 
> Feel free to check out my Twitter! I mostly retweet a lot of art and memes, but I post updates on my fics and sometimes little previews of what's coming up! So if you want a lot of sbi art on ur timeline, shoot me a follow!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


	27. Leaves From The Vine

Wilbur’s hands smooth out a bed for the freshly planted herbs, dirt-smeared along his face. He’s stained with mud from the shoulders down. Most of his morning was spent laying stones out framing the garden and tilling the soil for future seeds. The smell of rosemary, sage, and hyssop wafts through the air. It would take a few weeks for the herbs to become mature enough for pickings.

He hums picking ripe sweet berries off the prickly bushes into his basket. His fingers are scratched from the thorns to the point of bleeding. He knows he should put on gloves, and yet he keeps picking, gathering enough for the pie he promised to bake with Ranboo. Friend munches on a poppy by his side basking in the warm sunlight.

Gardening is peaceful. It allows him to avoid the dark thoughts lingering in his head by focusing on something tangible- something real. A tyrant that destroyed a county now retired giving life to the plants around him. He might’ve found the irony funny if the wound wasn’t still healing.

“Wilbur!” Phil shouts, catching his attention. “Can you pass us those spruce planks?” 

He’s perched on the walls cutting notches into the logs for the second floor. They decided on using logs for the walls and planks for the flooring. Wilbur still isn’t sure what they were going to build the roof out of, but he heard Phil mention a mix of slabs and stairs. Ranboo packs mud, grass, and wood chips into any cracks blocking out wind drafts. He hums a song as he works.

“You could come down,” Wilbur mumbles, already on his feet. He’s been working on stringing his words together. Even if it hurts his throat. “How going?”

Planks balanced in his arms, Wilbur climbs up the porch. “Good. I was gonna use these planks to start building the second floor. I’m thinking we build an attic as well so sleeping space won’t be so crowded. We got a lot of people living here after all.”

“I...stay in attic.” He offers without thinking. A window overlooking the tundra. A guitar resting against the windowsill. Broken mirror shards. Blood on his hands. He’s falling. His ears are ringing. He’s in the button room feeling the flames consume him until they become one- “It’s...familiar.”

“Alright,” he, thankfully, doesn’t push it any further. Phil reaches out for Wilbur’s hand before hesitating. His hand grips his upper arm instead. Wilbur’s fingers twitch at his sides. “Once you’re done in the garden, I’m gonna need some help nailing all the planks down-”

“Guys?” Ranboo’s timid voice interrupts Phil. He’s standing up with mud-stained hands clutching his chest. His eyes stare past them into the forest. “I- I think Tommy and Techno are back. But- but there’s someone else.”

“What?” Phil pushes the front door open with his shoulder. Ranboo is on his heels, tail swishing nervously. “I wonder who it is. Do you think they might’ve found a villager out here?”

“I didn’t think they’d spawn out here…” Their voices fade into the background. Wilbur stays on the porch squinting past the sunbeams. He can see flashes of Techno’s pink hair through the trees and Tommy’s iconic shirt. He’s beginning to think Ranboo may have just seen wrong until he heard a familiar voice.

“...Tubbo?” Wilbur utters the name in disbelief.

_(“Wilby!” Tommy is holding onto the hand of a shorter boy with sheep ears and sparkling green eyes. “This is Tubbo! He’s my new best friend!” And as if Wilbur would try to separate the two, Tommy threw his arms around Tubbo’s shoulders squishing their cheeks together. The boy covers his mouth to stifle his snorts trying to wiggle free from Tommy’s hold._

_“Tommy, you were gone for an hour,” Wilbur points out fondly. He’s glad Tommy has finally made a friend. Tommy had shrunk into himself when they arrived at Hypixel, and he was beginning to worry. “Tubbo, yeah?” At the sound of his voice, his ears wiggle and his eyes turn to Wilbur. “Well, if someone can put up with Tommy’s antics, then they’re good in my book.”)_

Tubbo shouldn’t be here.

But here he is. Stepping through the treeline with Tommy by his side, the two conversing as if there had never been any bad blood between them. Wilbur takes a step back. Maybe he’s hallucinating. That’s been happening frequently. Except usually Wilbur would be back in the afterlife choking for air until someone (usually Phil) brought him back to reality. This can’t be happening it can’t be real-

“TUBBO!” Ranboo’s shout sends Wilbur’s heart plummeting. He watches the two collide in a tight hug, Ranboo hunching over and Tubbo on his tippytoes, the two laughing. Wilbur ignores Phil’s wary look, unable to tear his eyes away from Tubbo.

_(“We can’t trust them…” Wilbur whispers, pressing further into the corner, nails digging into the skin of his forehead. He can hear his ragged breathing. The cigarette wobbles between his lips, ash dusting his lap. “No one...no one can...Tubbo is a traitor...Tommy...Techno...Quackity...they’re all- they-” he chokes on a sob. Wilbur tugs the trenchcoat further around his shoulders, flashes of the festival playing before his eyes. “I had to- I had to let them- Tubbo would have sold us out- no, I know he’s our Tubbo but he- he loves us he’s family but he- fuck-”)_

Tubbo breaks apart from Ranboo’s tight hug gripping onto his arms and smiling brightly. He seems so happy. No longer held down by the weight of betraying his country or crippled by exhaustion. Shit. Tubbo can’t see Wilbur- he thinks he’s _dead._ Techno and Phil come to the same realization soon after Wilbur. But it’s too late.

Eventually, Tubbo’s eyes meet Wilbur’s, the happiness on his face draining away into confusion.

“...Wilbur?” Even from this distance, Wilbur can hear the distinct wobble in Tubbo’s voice. His mind screams for him to run, to get away, to crawl back into the grave he deserves to be in, but his body stays frozen on the porch.

Tommy follows Tubbo’s line of sight and his eyes go comically wide. “Uh, shit. Okay, okay, uh, Tubbo? Tubbo? Listen to me, big man, hey. So. Uh, funny thing, right? Did you by chance eat any weird plants on the way over? Yeah- yeah, you totally are on drugs! Yup! Drugs! That is _totally_ it-”

Wilbur braces himself for what’s to come.

“WILBUR!”

Tubbo's smile lights up the whole area as if seeing Wilbur is the best thing that's ever happened to him. In the blink of an eye, Tubbo starts sprinting across the field to him because of course he does. This is Tubbo. _His_ Tubbo. This is his brother. There's no longer any doubt of that in Wilbur’s heart. He's ashamed there ever had been. That whatever insanity had blinded him back then still kept hold after all this time.

“WILBUR!” He’s running at full speed, tears streaming down his face, stretching his arms out. Wilbur instinctively sweeps Tubbo in a bone-crushing hug once he’s in range. He hears Tubbo laugh and his fingers clutch onto his dirty sweater. Wait, what is he doing? Why is Tubbo hugging him? He stares up at the other four who watch on in a shared mix of confusion and shock. “Wil- I- you _died_ ! I don’t- how- how are you even _alive?”_

“Long story,” Wilbur sighs into Tubbo’s hair. He subconsciously scratches behind Tubbo’s ears just like he did when they were younger. When things were simpler. “I’m so sorry, Tubbo. I’m- fuck, I did- I- so much...so much...you never deserved it. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tubbo mumbles and, fuck, now Wilbur’s crying. Deep down, he knows Tubbo isn’t saying the truth. There are probably thousands of emotions raging inside him and they will need to have a more in-depth conversation about it. But right now all that matters is Tubbo’s _here_ and he doesn’t outright hate him. “I’ve really missed you, big man.”

Wilbur steps back, taking Tubbo in fully. He’s grown a few inches and his horns are no longer just stubs on his head. They curl around his ears framing his face like a halo. But he still holds the same youthful glow, cheeks sporting sun-kissed freckles, dimples on both cheeks. “Missed you too.”

* * *

“Dream destroyed New L’manburg.”

Tubbo’s voice is somber. He sits between Tommy and Ranboo with a plate of half-eaten food on his lap. Bandages have been wrapped around the worst of his injuries while potions of healing handled the rest. “He...we tried to kill him. Quackity heard about how- how Technoblade killed Dream and thought we had a chance. He was next on the hit-list. We planned a festival. Dream wouldn’t have his armor, and we’d have the upper hand.”

“Does that idiot not learn?” Techno snorts, groaning at Phil’s sharp look. “Look, I’m just saying, Dream is quite possibly the most powerful person on this server. Next to me, obviously. If you guys couldn’t kill me, what makes you think you could kill him?”

“That’s what I said,” Tubbo agrees quietly. “But...we went through with it. And...we failed. Horribly. Dream then gave me an ultimatum- give him the disc, or he’d kill everyone in L’manburg. I- I didn’t have a _choice_! He- if I didn’t listen then everyone’s blood would be on my hands and-”

“You did the right thing,” Wilbur interrupts Tubbo. He ignores the fact that everyone’s eyes are on him now, picking his words carefully. “You...wanted everyone safe. That’s what Dream does. He finds weak spots and exploits.” Tubbo nods followed by a tired sigh.

“The next day he blew it all up. He built a giant TNT machine in the sky and…” he curls into Ranboo’s side and holds onto Tommy’s hand tightly. Ranboo wraps his tail around Tubbo’s waist while Tommy’s ears flatten against his head. “I failed them. I failed everyone. I watched my country- my home- get destroyed a second time and there was nothing I could do…”

Wilbur saw himself in Tubbo. An ex-president who lost his home and was forced to flee for his life. Guilt twists uncomfortably in his chest knowing he’s the cause for this. He made Tubbo president of a crater. And now the home he rebuilt is gone.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tommy grumbles balling his hands into fists. “That green bastard’s taken too much from us. We can’t just keep letting him get away with this!”

“‘S not our problem anymore,” Techno leans back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He levels Tommy with a calm look that rivals the boy’s poorly restrained anger. “I’m retired. For good this time.”

“Dream isn’t going to stop…” Ranboo mumbles shrinking in on himself. “He’s never gonna stop…not until he’s won.”

“He _has_ won,” Tubbo says tiredly. “L’manburg is gone, the SMP is back under his control, he has the discs- there’s nothing we can do.”

“Not yet,” Tommy gets to his feet looking around at everyone. “I’m going to fight Dream. For my discs. For this server. For _everything._ ”

“Tommy, you realize that’s a hopeless fight, right?” Techno scrubs a hand over his face. “I literally _just_ said Dream is the most powerful person on this server. You guys would’ve lost a _war_ to him if not for those discs! What makes you think you can win a duel?”

“I’ll go with you,” Tubbo quickly stands as well. He grasps Tommy’s hand, intertwining their fingers once again, smiling up at him. “We have to try.”

“Tommy, you can’t take him on by yourselves. I’m going with you.”

“No,” Tommy mumbles. He stares at the ground rather than at Techno. “No, this is our fight. You...you’ve been forced to fight enough of our fights.”

“This is different. I'm _offering_ to help you! Is your life really worth two music discs?”

“The discs are the reason all of these wars started in the first place! If- If Dream wins then we’ve lost! I’m the only one who has ever stood up to Dream, and it’s-” he cuts off. Different emotions flash across his face.

_(“He said he was my friend,” Tommy brokenly cries out into Wilbur’s shoulder. “But he- fuck, he was never my friend, was he? He just- I was so fucking alone and he- he was the only one who- I- don’t let him take me back please please I don’t wanna go back I don’t-” Wilbur shushes him quietly, combing a hand through Tommy’s sweaty hair, cradling the boy to his chest.)_

He tightens his grip on Tubbo’s hand. “It’s the reason why he...I _have_ to do this, Technoblade.”

“I’m gonna be completely honest, I still don’t understand what’s so important about some discs, but…” Phil meets Tommy’s gaze. “I’m not gonna just let you two walk to your death. I refuse to just sit on the sideline and watch as another one of my sons dies.”

“I…” Tommy blinks. His lips move but make no sound.

“I’m coming too. I need to go back to the SMP anyway…” Ranboo pipes rubbing the back of his neck. “I need to apologize to Fundy and Niki for just leaving. I gotta stop running from my problems, you know?”

“So it’s settled,” Wilbur digs his nails into the palm of his hands. _Go with them and help them stop being a coward_. “Techno and I stay. You guys go.”

“There is a chance, yes, but are two music discs really worth your life? _Any_ of your lives?”

Wilbur knew Tommy didn’t have an answer. The significance behind those two discs will only truly be known to Tommy, but Wilbur has long learned to accept it. That’s just who Tommy is; once attached he never lets go. It’s both his strongest trait and his greatest weakness. Techno sighs, having come to the same conclusion as Wilbur. “Alright. If you wait a few days, we can gather enough supplies for the trip.”

Tommy smiles. “Thanks, Techno.”

* * *

Wilbur wakes up to the sound of a brewing stand.

There’s a lonely feeling of detachment in his chest, desperately clinging onto the remnants of his dreams. He can’t remember much but anything is better than reality. Better than living with a lonely feeling of detachment in his chest. Left to explore in the empty void of emotions and memories that aren’t his own.

“Go back to sleep, Wil,” a hand buries itself in his curls. Wilbur stares past the campfire to the brewing stand. Potions are being held in the hooks that bubble under the blaze powered heat. A glistering melon is soon added turning the potions a bright pink. They emit a soft glow that dances across the planks. 

“Glowstone,” Wilbur mumbles. He hears Techno make a questioning noise. He scrubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up. “Make better.”

“I know. ‘M running low though. I used most of the glowstone on the others,” he nods his head toward the bag at his side. Wilbur tugs the leather bag to his side, zipping it open. Inside are any kind of potions or other magically powered items the four might end up needing in the fight. He bites back a smile. There’s an extreme amount of golden apples buried at the bottom.

“How long?” Techno pursues his lips. There are dark eye bags under his eyes and he sways slightly in place. A small tube is held over the potions, glowstone dust carefully being added into the mixture. The potions pop and sizzle in their glass confines.

“Uh...when did you guys all fall asleep?”

“Techno.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs heavily through his nose. “I just- they’re gonna need all they can get. Three of them are on one life, and Dream has taken on _armies_ all on his own. I’ve seen him slaughter people first-hand. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Wilbur can’t help it. He starts giggling. Techno glares at him without any real heat behind it, gently kicking Wilbur’s leg with his socked foot. “Oh, shut up.”

“I have faith,” Wilbur scoots closer. Techno switches out the finished potions with bottles full of water. He hands the potions of healing to Wilbur who carefully lays them in the bag. A handful of nether wart is crumbled in Techno until they are turned into a powdery substance and he adds them to the water bottles. “They’ll be back.”

“They better, or else I’m hunting Dream down and putting his head on my wall.”

“Ruin the aesthetic.”

“At least I don’t decorate with diamond blocks.” The two simultaneously glance towards Tommy. He’s stretched across the ground taking up the most space with a sock pressed against Tubbo’s cheek. Wilbur covers his mouth with a hand to stifle his laughter. Techno grins bumping their knees together. “Yer gonna wake ‘em up.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes. He rests his head on Techno’s shoulder watching the potions slowly brew. A skinny tail wraps around his waist, the pink tuft finding its way into his hands, a comfortable silence falling over them both. “...is it selfish?”

“Heh?”

“Not...wanting to go,” his eyelids feel heavy again. Wilbur fights back the urge to fall asleep, counting how many bubbles form inside the glass bottles. He doesn’t want to dream of a better life. He hates the longing feeling in his soul. “I’m…” He doesn’t know how he feels. It feels wrong letting everyone believe he’s dead, and yet a good thing as well. He had caused more harm than good in his time.

“I think you’re doing the right thing puttin’ yourself first.” Techno mumbles after thinking it over. “If you do wanna go back in the future, just let me know.”

“...okay.”

“You should get some sleep, Wil.”

“No. Fuck you.”

“Well, I tried.” Techno smirks resting his head against Wilbur’s.

It isn’t long until Wilbur feels himself doze off.

* * *

The day comes sooner before any of them would like.

Tommy swings the leather bag packed to the brim with items over his shoulder while conversing happily with Ranboo. His hair has been pulled into a loose ponytail that lays against the nape of his neck. Fresh bandages are wrapped around his arms hiding the scars of his exile. A blue silk cape lined with fur is draped over his shoulders.

“I’ll make sure they come back safe,” Phil says slipping his hat on. He smiles at Wilbur. “Keep an eye on Techno while we’re gone. Make sure he doesn’t go off causing any wars.”

“No promises.” Wilbur mumbles. He holds back the childish urge to cling to Phil and beg him to stay. To never leave his side again.

When Tommy sees Wilbur staring, he waves. Tubbo bumps their shoulders together and sticks his tongue out at Tommy. They remind Wilbur of the time when the walls were being built and the nation had still been young. The two were frequently seen racing across the rolling fields pushing and shoving at each other, their laughter never ceasing, the happiest Wilbur had ever seen them.

And now here they both are preparing to end a war. A war Wilbur started.

Wilbur’s legs move before his brain can catch up. Before either can react, both boys are tugged into a hug. Tubbo immediately melts, burying his face into Wilbur’s chest, clutching onto him as if his life depends on it. Tommy wraps his arms around Wilbur doing his best to keep a brave face.

“Promise you’ll be back.” Wilbur ignores how his voice shakes. How tears threaten to fall at any minute. He butts his head against Tubbo’s and squeezes Tommy’s shoulder. “Both of you.”

“I promise,” Tubbo says without a hint of doubt in his voice. He leans in pressing their foreheads together for a brief moment.

“I’m gonna make you proud, Wilbur,” Tommy mumbles softly. “I’m gonna make that green bastard pay for everything he’s done to us.”

Wilbur pulls back, a hand resting on both their shoulders.

“I’ll be waiting.”

With one last hug, the four depart for the Dream SMP.

Tubbo climbs onto Ranboo’s back cheering excitedly and punching the air as he’s carried while Phil watches on in laughter. Tommy grins at the three breaking off a tree branch to wave around in the air wildly. Wilbur leans on the doorframe watching them slowly fade into the distance. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Techno shoves past him.

“Don’t stand near any cliffs, Theseus!” Techno shouts as far as his voice can carry. Tommy stiffens before turning, his eyes wide in surprise. The two stare at each other for a long minute. Tommy lifts a middle finger, laughing as he walks backward in the grass, waving with both his arms. “He’s such an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Wilbur mumbles, ignoring the sense of dread that comes over him. “Yeah, he really is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER ONE MORE CHAPTER ONE MORE CHAPTER ONE MO-
> 
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	28. In Little Ways, When Everything Stays

The days passed by at a painstakingly slow pace. Techno considered venturing into the Dream SMP to see what was taking so long, but each time, Wilbur talked him out of it.

“We’re retired,” Wilbur reminds Techno quietly. “And...not everyone will- will understand.” Flashes of the execution play in his mind. Techno digs his nails into his arms. He tenses when Wilbur’s hand rests on his shoulder. “They’ll be okay.”

“That’s not-” Techno exhales through his nose. “I know. I know.”

But he wasn’t the only one who was growing impatient. The voices were more restless than ever, and while they weren’t demanding the rivers to flow with blood, they were _loud_.

**_go go fight dream kill him make him pAY_ **

_w̶e̸ ̶n̵e̵e̴d̸ ̶t̷o̷ ̴h̶e̷l̷p̷!̸!̷!̷ ̸b̷u̷t̷ ̵w̸e̷ ̴l̵i̷k̴e̷ ̸i̷t̷ ̵h̵e̷r̵e̶ ̴b̵U̷T̷ ̶B̷R̵O̸T̵H̵E̷R̷I̸N̴N̶I̴T̵ ̵A̶N̵D̵ ̵R̷A̵N̸B̵R̶O̵T̷H̸E̸R̸ ̷A̴N̷D̶ ̷D̷A̷D̷Z̸A̴ ̷T̷H̷E̵Y̴ ̵N̵E̷E̷D̴ ̴U̵S̸ ̴_

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD MAKE DREAM PAY PAY PAY KILL_ **

_R̷O̴A̷D̶T̷R̷I̴P̸ ̸L̸E̷T̴S̴ ̸G̶O̵ ̴q̷u̷i̷c̵k̵ ̷t̵e̷c̸h̸n̶o̵ ̵g̵o̴ ̷t̵o̵ ̴t̷h̸e̶s̷e̷ ̴c̵o̴o̷r̷d̷s̶ ̸T̶H̸E̶Y̵R̷E̵ ̵I̴N̵ ̸D̷R̵E̷A̷M̴S̸ ̶E̶V̴I̴L̸ ̴L̶A̵I̶R̶ ̵t̴e̸c̵h̷n̵o̴ ̵y̵o̷u̸ ̶n̶e̸e̴d̵ ̷t̶o̴ ̶e̶a̶t̷_

No matter how many times Techno told them to shut up, they never did. He never knew Chat could care about someone other than themselves. He just wished he wasn't on the receiving end of their rants.

A week went by and passed in the blink of an eye.

Techno finished the house in two days working nonstop to avoid all the multitude of ways the fight against Dream could go wrong. He slept fitfully. He was lucky to get three hours of sleep. Flashes of the four dying gruesomely haunting his dreams until he woke up choking on his tears. Every morning Techno sat on the roof watching the forest for movement. Waiting. Sometimes Wilbur joined him, the two sitting shoulder to shoulder in silence, the unspoken worries hanging heavy in the air.

“Gonna be okay,” Wilbur mumbled. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Techno. Maybe even more. Techno took note of how his hands shook at his sides. “They’ll be back.”

And so they waited. 

And waited. 

And waited.

A week became two. Two became three. On the dawn of the fourth week, Techno began losing hope.

“He promised he’d come back…” Techno scratches under Enderchest’s chin. Wilbur looks up from the book had been reading, face blank. “They all did. I don’t- I don’t think they died but...”

_What if they don’t want to come back?_

“I…” Wilbur rubs the skin of his thumb raw. “Miss having a family.” The near-silent confession has Techno stilling. “It was...nice.”

“Yeah,” his throat feels dry. Techno inhales slowly. “It was.”

_I miss having one too._

The next few days pass by in a haze. Techno keeps himself busy as much as possible, farming all-throughout the morning, chopping logs for the fireplace or fishing in the afternoon, and cooking dinner for two. It was quiet, and it was peaceful, and it was everything Techno had ever wanted in life. He hated it. Wilbur seemed to share a similar mindset, always on edge, never speaking more than three words per conversation.

One night, Wilbur finally broke.

“THEY’RE FUCKING DEAD!” Wilbur screamed slamming a plate onto the ground. He scraps his nails along his scalp breathing hard. Techno stays in the doorway, watching Wilbur’s knees give out under him. “I- I felt a space in the afterlife- it was for _Tommy_ I just- I _know_ it, My- my brother is fucking dead. My little brother. I don’t- I shouldn’t be here. He’s- he’s all I have he-”

Wilbur visibly tenses up when Techno drapes his cape around his shoulders. He tucks his head between his knees, wings folded uncomfortably against his back. “He’s just a kid…”

“It’s not your fault,” Techno says calmly. He crouches down beside Wilbur keeping a hand between his shoulder blades. Wilbur’s greyed fingers curl into the fur-lined collar to ground himself. “You know that.”

He’d experienced enough of Wilbur’s breakdowns in Pogtopia to know what helped and what didn’t. He hears Wilbur exhale shakily before counting under his breath. 

_Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one..._

Techno doesn’t know how much time passes. But he stays beside Wilbur until he stops shaking, eyeing the ceramic shards by his feet. “...Sorry.” He kicks away a particularly large piece with his foot.

“It’s fine. We needed new plates anyway. You were really just doing me a favor.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” he chuckles, scrubbing at his puffy eyes. Techno helps Wilbur onto his feet, one of his lanky arms around his shoulders acting as a living crutch for him. “Thanks. For sticking around.”

“I’m your babysitter, where else am I gonna go?” Techno grins when his remark earns him an elbow to the ribs. “Ow.”

“Oh, that did _not_ hurt you.”

“It did. You broke my ribs. I’m in a tremendous amount of pain right now.”

A month has passed since they left. Techno stops waiting on the roof (even if he does occasionally sit on the front steps) and begins new projects. He picks up whittling putting to good use the excess of logs they had stored away.

**_this is a useless skill_ **

_m̸a̸k̴e̷ ̴u̸s̸ ̴a̶n̵ ̶o̶t̷t̴e̴r̷_

Wilbur starts smiling more. One night Wilbur pulled out his guitar and began showing Techno a new song he’d been writing. There are things Wilbur never tells Techno, nights where he hears muffled sobbing come from his room or days when his hands are freshly bandaged, but the distant, lifeless look has finally left his eyes.

Slowly but surely, they begin healing.

“Do you remember that time when we were kids and it was storming?” Techno pulls up the fishing net. He picks through the fish they caught releasing any small ones. Wilbur blinks, brows furrowing, holding the bucket for him.

“Uh...it stormed a lot, Technoblade.” Wilbur points out. He laughs when Friend bumps their nose into his thigh, _baa-ing_ happily when he scratches the top of his head.

“We made a blanket fort in your room and stole tarts from the kitchens,” he drops the net back into the river. A strong gust of air blows past making his braid flutter in the wind. “You started going on about the future. How you wanted to become the greatest musician in the world visiting every place imaginable.”

“I still wanna do that,” Wilbur hums sitting down on the riverbank. “What about it?”

“Do you remember what I said?”

“Uh…” He pursues his lips trying to think back. “Not...really.”

“I wanted a home,” it had been such a simple wish. Wilbur complained about it the whole night, trying to goad Techno into saying something cooler, their laughter filling the ancient stronghold. Back then Techno didn’t know why he said such a thing. It just felt right. 

Techno closes his eyes feeling the sun on his skin. “I think I’ve finally found that.”

“Damn, when did you get so soft?” He can hear the smile in Wilbur’s voice. “But...yeah. I think I get that.”

**_someone is coming theyre here turn around turn look look prepare_ **

_T̴H̷E̷Y̵R̷E̶ ̵B̵A̸C̴K̷ ̵R̸E̵U̸N̶I̶O̴N̶ ̶H̵A̸P̸P̶Y̴ ̴F̴A̶M̵I̴L̶Y̸ ̸Y̸A̸Y̶ ̷P̶O̴G̷_

“WILBUR! TECHNOBLADE!”

Techno’s eyes fly open at the sound of his name. Wilbur has a similar shocked expression on his face. Their names are called out once again, and Wilbur promptly drops everything he’d been doing. “Wait- Wilbur!” Techno sprints after the man close on his heels. “Wil-”

He stops. Wilbur sprints across the field until he has Tommy and Tubbo wrapped in the tightest hug possible. The two teens burst into surprised laughter. Techno slowly turns to watch Phil and Ranboo walk out of the thicket. One of Ranboo’s arms was in a cast and Phil looked incredibly beaten up as if he’d gone through hell. When Ranboo spotted Techno, he started waving. “Techno! Te-”

Techno has the two in a crushing hug before Ranboo could get any more words out. He can hear Phil chuckle and settle a hand in his hair while Ranboo’s tail swishes against his leg.

“You- I thought you were dead! You guys were gone for a week and I- we were so sure you weren’t coming back-” Wilbur shouts bonking his fist onto Tommy’s head.

“We kinda got caught up in things,” Tubbo laughs squashed between Tommy and Wilbur. There’s a bandage wrapped around his neck along with numerous bruises. “There was this crazy egg cult- you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Yeah! Dream’s fucking _dead_ and I got my discs back and we’re _back_!” Tommy covers the top of his head with his hands so Wilbur can’t hit him again. He has a fresh scar across his cheek that got dangerously close to his eye. Any higher and he would've been blinded. “So fuck you, bitch!”

“You…” Wilbur pinches the bridge of his nose. A fond, exasperated smile stretches across his face. “I’m proud of you, Tommy. I’m proud of both of you.”

“I mean, we did help,” Phil pipes up, brushing one of his wings through Wilbur’s curls. “But first let’s get inside. I’ll get some food going- we’ve been traveling for awhile.”

“Oh, yes please,” Ranboo groans. “I’m so hungry.”

Tubbo wiggles free from Wilbur’s hug to shoot a grin at Ranboo. “Race ya!” Without warning, the two are racing to the cottage, shoving each other and laughing.

“You doin’ alright?” Phil asks watching Wilbur and Tommy follow the two at a much slower pace. He bumps his shoulder against Techno’s. “Things are looking good here.”

“Yeah, we’re doing good.” Techno smiles scratching behind his ear. “No one’s started any new governments, have they?”

“Nah, I think they learned their lesson. The SMP is a lot nicer now without Dream. It’s...recovering after the whole egg thing, but it’s nice.”

“...egg?”

Phil laughs adjusting the brim of his hat. “Yeah. Come on, let’s make sure they don’t burn the place down.”

Techno smiles. He can hear Tommy and Wilbur’s shouting from the cottage, Tubbo’s shadow drifting past the drawn curtains, Ranboo’s tail frequently swishing past the window.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE DONE! WE'VE FINALLY REACHED THE END! BOYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME ON THIS AMAZING JOURNEY god I never thought I'd get this far without all yalls constant support thank you guys so so so much I hope you've all enjoyed!! This has been so much fun to write & I've appreciated all the kudos and comments SOOO much!!! Make sure to follow me on Twitter if you wanna see hcs, theories, or previews to upcoming works and I'll see you all later
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